Will I Wake Tomorrow From This Nightmare?
by cinnamon-wolf-pup
Summary: This is the renewed "never let you go", i hope you like it! Mark Cohen is scared. Always scared. This is why. Who is going to be there to help him?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: hey everyone, this is going to be the renewed story of Never Let You Go. I know that this chapter is quite short, but I wanted to get the prologue out, and I'm already three quarters of the way finished with the next chapter. Hope you guys like it! I promise the next chapter is going to be a hell of a lot longer than this.

I still remember everything about that day. The day my life totally changed, even if I had no clue what was actually happening at the time. All the sights, sounds, smells, it is all burned into my mind, never leaving me alone. At the time, it didn't make a difference to me either way, and little did I know how bad it could get….

FLASHBACK

My sister, Cindy, and I had just finished giving our two year old yellow Labrador/retriever mix a long, messy bath. We had probably gotten more wet and soapy than Cassio, though. I could smell the acrid scent of dog shampoo stained into my hands, and could hear the clicking of nails on the hardwood floor as Cassio scrambled across the floor, trying not to skid into the walls, which made my six year old self giggle quietly. As I was about to enter my room to change out of my soapy and soaked clothes, I heard my Mommy call up the stairs for me to come down.

I walked down our long flight of stairs slowly, careful not to trip or slip and fall down them, which was a usual thing for me to do. Coming into the living room, I saw my Mommy and my Daddy sitting together on the couch, looking sad, and I was very surprised, I couldn't believe it! My Daddy was home for once! He was _always_ working, and I hardly ever got to see him. When he was home, he usually sat on the couch watching the TV or on his computer, holding a bottle that smelled yucky. I think Cindy called it alcomhol before or something like that. I didn't like the smell of it, and I hated when my Daddy drank it.

"Baby, your Daddy and I have to talk to you about something very important, okay?" Mommy said softly, looking straight at me. "Daddy and I are getting something called a divorce honey. It means that we are splitting up, that Daddy won't be living here anymore. Do you understand? We will most likely be dating other people, and you will live here with me during the week and see Daddy on the weekends, when you don't have school."

I was confused. I didn't really understand how this would be very different, after all, I hardly saw my Daddy as it was. And he already was with other women, I knew that, I had heard him talking on the phone to them when Mommy was right upstairs. It didn't matter much to me, this divorce thing. It wouldn't be any different. So I shrugged my shoulders.

"Okay. Can I go back upstairs now?"

"Um…yes I suppose so. Are you sure you are okay baby?" Mommy asked, looking slightly taken aback.

I nodded my head, and, gripping the railing, walked up the stairs. Fifteen minutes after my Mommy called Cindy downstairs, she ran back upstairs crying. I didn't understand why everyone was so upset back then, but I would soon after that.

END FLASHBACK

That had been one week before my seventh birthday. That night, my Daddy had taken his clothes and left, living on our small boat, with only the bear necessities and a toilet that didn't work.

My name is Mark Christian Cohen, and this is my story.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: hey…sorry, I had this all written out on paper but couldn't type it up for a while

A/N: hey…sorry, I had this all written out on paper but couldn't type it up for a while. Hope u like it.

(italics are thoughts)

Chapter 2

I shoved my locker closed on all my new books and binders, leaning against it heavily just so I could force the lock on. After 25 minutes of searching, I had finally found my new locker, smaller than I could have imagined. Sighing, I slid down against my locker until I hit the floor, knees up to my chin and staring out at the empty hall. It was way after the final bell had rung on the first day, and all of the students had rushed off, finding no reason to stick around this hell hole.

_Better off in this hell hole than the one I'm headed to._ Of course. On top of being the first day of high school, it was a Monday. My day to go to my father's house for the night. There is no way this day could get any worse, is there?

_Oh. My. God. You have got to be kidding me. You have got to be friggen kidding me._ At the instant I thought that, my science teacher comes waltzing out of his office, which conveniently (note the sarcasm) happens to be 2 doors down from my locker. And he was headed my way. This teacher has the reputation to be a, well there is no nice way to put this, pervert. And not just with the girls either. It's sickening. Just my luck. I quickly got up on my knees, pretending to organize my backpack.

"Why hello there Mr. Cohen. How pleasant to see you. I didn't expect to find you on the class roster again this year," He smiled that nasty little smirk at me, and I felt myself inwardly cringe. "How are you on this fine afternoon?"

Oh yeah, and did I mention that he taught at my junior high school last year? And this is the SECOND YEAR IN A ROW that I am going to have to put up with him?

"F-fine sir. Just…just tired you know. From getting lost so much and everything." I chuckled nervously, biting my lip and tugging my backpack up onto my shoulder. I let out an 'mmph', it was a lot heavier than I thought. My eyes darted back and forth, looking for an escape. I smiled, seeing my best friend walking towards me from down the hall. "Sorry, I have to go, he's my ride," not waiting for an answer, I turned and jogged down to Roger Davis.

"Roger! Oh thank god, I didn't know how I was going to get away from the toad," I laughed, shifting my backpack. Running my hand through my almost white blond hair, I looked up at him. "Oh, my hero!" I said jokingly as he slung an arm around my shoulders.

"Oh yes, it is I, Roger Mathieu Davis, saving the damsel in distress once again," Roger snorted, showing off his true colors. He smirked brightly at me. "So tell me. What about your classes? Any cool teachers or anything?"

Rolling my eyes, I answered, "Hmm…well there was one, my philosophy teacher. He told us all to call him just Collins. I think that might actually turn out to be an all right class, at first I wasn't sure but once he jumped up on the desk and started going on about anarchy and revolution, I was totally hooked. That stuff is actually interesting if you're being taught by someone who actually gets the real world." I rambled, as we strolled through the halls, not really going anywhere. "We played one of those get to know you games, and he actually played it with the class. That took like 20 minutes and then he gave us the rest of the period free, and then I was talking with him for awhile."

"Sounds cool," Roger said. "You're lucky, all my teachers are old hags. I'll probably spend most of my time in class asleep this year."

"Eh, don't think I'm so lucky. I'm stuck with the toad again this year," I sneered lightly, as he groaned sympathetically and patted my back.

"I feel for ya, man."

I half smiled up at him, and dragged my feet along the corridor. Loathe to admit it, but I was exhausted, and the walking wasn't helping much. I was aching from going to Dad's last night and knew it would only get worse. I'm supposed to be at my dad's house Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, and then all the rest of the time I'm supposed to spend at my Mom's place with my stepfather, mom and little half sister. Cindy lived full time with my Dad, after getting in one too many fights with my step father. Luckily my Dad never actually touched her.

"Mark, you look totally wiped." Roger said, looking concerned as he tilted my head up. Both eyebrows shot up when he caught full sight of my bloodshot eyes, and he pulled me in slightly to lean against him. I blew out a puff of air irritably. I knew it was for the best though, I was just about falling over.

"It's nothing, you know Sundays and Mondays are my double nights. I just…he just had a bad night last night." I whispered, my head looking at my shoes scuffing against the newly waxed floors. I felt Roger's breath quicken in his chest, I knew he was angry at my father. I pulled away from Roger a bit, my arms crossed over my stomach in a sort of self-hug.  
"Mark, it's not nothing. You really should do something about it, tell someone, do anything," Roger pleaded, and then cut me off.

"I did tell! You, and Maureen-"

"I don't mean us. I mean an adult. And maybe…maybe if you aren't going to tell, soon one of us is going to have to. We see how hurt you are sometimes, Mark, we hate it. We love you so much," He grabbed my hand, and I clenched it, grateful for the warmth.

"I know…I love you guys too, but this is my life, I can deal with it, I am dealing with it," I muttered, knowing it wouldn't be wise to tell him exactly my way of 'dealing with it'. As an attempt to change the subject, I pointed to a room I had been in earlier. "That's the philosophy room. Collins's room." I walked up to the door, pressing my face to the window and looking in. "Ah, he's not there. Probably went home already."

Roger's arms were folded across his chest, and he looked appraisingly at me. I guess it was sort of obvious that I was changing the subject. To my surprise, however, he dropped it. "Yeah. You know, we should probably get going before they kick us out. But don't think this is over. I really worry about you, Marky." He said, face the picture of all things serious, as he reverted back to the old nickname. He probably didn't even realize it, and though I wouldn't allow anyone else to ever call me that, he could. Because he was Roger, he just could.

"I know, Rog. I know, and I appreciate it, I just really don't like the idea of telling a teacher or my mom or something." I explained, and suddenly lunged at him. I hugged him tighter than I thought was possible, and just stood there with my arms around his neck as he slowly slid his arms around my torso. I closed my eyes against the tears that threatened to flow. "Thank you."

"No problem," this was whispered next to my ear before we broke apart. I shivered slightly, but tried to ignore it. "You want a ride?"

I smiled at him. "Yeah, if it's okay with your mom."

"Pshh, are you kidding me? She probably thinks you're more of a son to her than I am. She loves you," Roger laughed, and we walked outside to find his mom waiting for us.

"Thanks for the ride Mrs. Davis!" I called once again, pulling my backpack out of the car and sticking my tongue out at Roger. "Bye my shining prince!"

"Au revoir damsel in distress!"

I giggled as I heard Roger explain to his mom, "Uh…inside joke, I kinda saved him from the evil science teacher earlier." Ah, yes. My hero.

I jogged up the lawn to my house, pulling out my key and letting myself in, turning back and waving once again. I saw Roger's window roll down and heard him yell, "See you tomorrow Mark. And don't forget what we talked about. Think about it okay?"

My head nodded, but inside I knew I could never, no matter how much Roger thought it was a good idea. Closing the door behind me, I growled and collapsed onto the couch. After a few minutes of just laying there curled up in a ball, the kitchen became my destination. I wasn't even hungry, and I didn't know if I could keep anything down, but it would be in my best interest to at least try to eat something before Dad's because if I didn't eat now then I wouldn't until lunch the next day when I would split lunch with Roger like always. Finding a package of my little sister's fruit snacks, I tore it open and went into the den to watch television. I flipped through the channels, settling on some teenage high school soap called Degrassi, and cautiously bit the heads off of the gummy animals.

_Hmm, not too bad._ I got engrossed in the program, sliding down until I was laying on my side, head propped up on a pillow. I never even heard my mom open the door, ushering my 3 year old sister in and calling to someone behind her, "Come on in."

It was only when I had a little girl making me her personal jungle gym that I looked up to see Roger standing, leaning against the doorframe. His eyebrow was quirked, smirking at me. "Comfortable?"

I nodded, "What are you doing here?"

"Your mom stopped over to talk to mine about something and invited me over for dinner." He said happily, walking over. My mom stepped into the room then.

"Yeah, he can stay until a little after dinner, then you know your dad is coming to pick you up," she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel and scooping up Melissa.

I groaned, sticking my face into the cushions. "Do I have to?" I whined to her, like I always did.

Rolling her eyes at me, she replied in a monotonous tone, "Yes. I don't see what's so bad about it, Cindy is always telling me how she just goes on the computer and your father leaves her alone." As she left the room, my shoulders tensed.

"Not that bad. Right." I whispered. Roger was up near my head; I hadn't moved from my earlier position. Lifting up my head and shoulders, he switched places with the pillow and played with my hair.

"You know…" Roger started, looking hesitant.

"No. Not right now, she's right in the next room," I hissed, not meanly, just worriedly. "Let's just…let's just watch this for a while." I relaxed as his fingers worked their way unconsciously through my hair.

"What's it about?"

"I don't know a lot about it, I just put it on now. But at least this episode, see that guy with the dark hair? That's Marco, he's trying to come out to his father but he's too scared because his father hates gays. And…" I went on, explaining the whole thing to Roger. We watched about two more episodes of it before what seemed to be a marathon ended.

"Wow. We just, like, acted like a couple of girls," Roger and I sniggered, and I turned onto my back, looking up at him. I just stared at his laughing face for a moment, snapping out of it when my mom called us for dinner. We took our places at the table, Roger to the left of me as usual, and ate (or picked at) our food.

Around an hour later, Roger had just left with his Mom and my dad was sitting outside in the car, waiting impatiently for me to come out. I grabbed my backpack and a couple of things that I had stashed in another bag under my clothes (an ace wrap, gauze, that kind of stuff), and ran out the door. I slid into the front seat, having to climb to get in (did I mention I was short?). "Sorry it took a minute sir," I panted, pushing myself as far against the door as possible.

"Whatever boy, you made me wait. I already had a bad day at work and then I have to put up with this shit? It's unbelievable!" My father growled at me.

Great. This is going to be a very, VERY long night.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: okay, here's the third chapter

A/N: okay, here's the third chapter. Hope u like it

Chapter 3

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. The late bell for school rings in literally 3 minutes, and I just rolled off my bed at my dad's. I was so out of it when I finally fell asleep last night that I forgot to set my alarm, and it's going to take at least 15 minutes to get to school, never mind getting ready. I'm tearing through my bag, looking for my make up, my cover up that I bought a couple of years ago when I stole some of my sister's and saw how well it could mask the bruises. I can't find it anywhere, and I have a massive black eye. I finally just throw my hands up in the air. There's no point in making myself later, especially when my dad won't give me a note for it. I hurriedly throw on jeans and an old sweatshirt of Roger's (I have no clue why I have that) and run out into the living room, pulling my shoes on as I go.

My dad is sitting in his armchair, a huge travel mug filled with coffee (there's no doubt he has a hangover). "Took you long enough. Let's go."

I take my bag and follow him out the door, slightly limping but trying to get rid of that limp. From last night, I hurt my leg. It twisted under me as he pushed me down against the wall, and hurts like a fucker to walk on now. My entire torso is a nasty purplish blue color. There's a rather large handprint shaped bruise wrapping its way across my wrist, and that's all swollen. Hopefully it's just sprained or something. Then there is the black eye, the slightly sore nose that bled all over the place last night, and a cut on my temple, that is luckily mostly covered by my hair.

The ride to the school is made in silence. Dad writes Cindy a note, and yells at me to get out of the car, and speeds off. I sigh, watching Cindy walk off without so much as a look back at me. I walk confidently into the school's office, the limp almost unnoticeable by now.

"Um…excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you ma'am, but um I'm late and my dad didn't write me a note and I don't know what to do," I said shyly, all traces of confidence gone. Was I going to get detention? Would they call home?

The secretary scrutinized me for a moment, then smiled. "You must be Cindy Cohen's brother, right? She just came in with a note, your father must have forgotten to write both names. You can go ahead to class, take this pass. I believe the first period is…2 today."

A puff of relief came out of my mouth. Thank god. "Thank you so much ma'am, have a good day," I flashed her a grin that my mom said could make any girl melt (yeah right) and walked out of the office. I stopped for a moment at my locker, and found out that I had philosophy right now.

_Good. Collins is cool, he won't ask too many questions._ I half ran to the classroom, and quietly slipped inside to find everyone working silently, and Collins leaning up against the desk. He raised an eyebrow at me and I blushed. I hated being up in front of the whole class.

He beckoned me over and I gave him the note, trying to hide the black eye by looking down to keep it in the shadows. Collins nodded slowly, and handed me a couple of worksheets. "We're working on these today, to get your opinions on some types of governments and philosophies. You can read quietly if you finish early," He whispered, and totally forgetting to hide my face, I looked up to hear him more clearly. The teacher gave a slight gasp and frowned, eyebrows creasing. I felt my cheeks flush with heat and I internally cursed myself for my lack of attention.

"Er…okay. I'll just…I'm just going to work on these now then," I stammered, and hurried to my seat before he could answer. I set to work on the papers, finding them easy and finishing them in less than 20 minutes, not looking up once. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a worn notebook and a pen, and opened to the last written-on page.

I love movies, plays, documentaries, anything of the sort. Filming is something that I can really lose myself in, I feel almost protected when I'm behind the lens of my favorite 8mm camera. But when I can't film, writing is the next best thing. Screenplays, short stories, sometimes I've even done a few poems.

Collins suddenly clapped his hands together with about five minutes left of the class. "Okay everyone, pass up your papers. This afternoon, my first department night will be held. Now, there is nothing that anyone needs to make up, but I am required to tell you anyway. Normal department nights will be held on Mondays however, they pushed it to Tuesday this week."

The bell rang, and the students shoved one another in their haste to get out of the classroom. Rolling his eyes, Collins moved behind his desk and shuffled some papers around, until he saw me about to leave the room.

"Mark! Hey man, glad you could make it," he grinned at me, and I embarrassedly returned the gesture.

"Yeah…sorry about that…my umm, alarm didn't go off this morning," I told him.

"Well, it happens to everyone. Where'd you get the black eye?" He tried to gently probe, and I visibly tensed and looked down again.

"Ah…I uh, I walked into a door," I said feebly, knowing the excuse was not believable in the least. I knew how obvious it was that this bruise was made with an intent to harm. I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. "I should, um I should probably go, next class is about to start."

Collins audibly sighed. "Okay Mark, well like I said before department night is tonight. Come if you want, even just to hang out."

I nodded hastily, willing to agree to just about anything just to get out of this awkward situation. I almost ran out of the room, finding Roger and Maureen waiting for me against the wall. Roger's face hardened immediately when he saw my eye. Maureen looked sympathetic. "Oh baby, again?"

I nodded tersely, and we began walking to the PE class that we shared. As it was only the second day of school, I knew we wouldn't be doing anything besides sitting on the bleachers talking so I wasn't too worried. The three of us walked to the highest part in the back of the bleachers, which was just about deserted, and sat, Roger and me in the topmost bench, Maureen with her legs stretched out in the one below us.

"Hey Mo, have you ever heard of the show Degrassi?" I asked curiously, as Roger laughed a bit, remembering last night. I leaned my back against his side, resting a bit as he put his arm around me loosely.

"Duh. Of course. Pretty much every teenage girl watches Degrassi," Maureen giggled. "It's a good show. And has some REALLY hot people."

My eyes automatically rolled. Roger turned his head to me, sticking his tongue out. "I told you. We were like a couple of teenage girls last night, it was sad."

I burst into laughter, and Maureen looked curiously at me. "Roger and I watched a marathon of it last night, it was the first time either of us had seen it. We got really into it," I said, a bit embarrassed.

Maureen giggled at us. "Really? Wow. Who were your favorite characters? I liked Paige a lot, and Spinner."

Roger wrinkled his nose, "I didn't really like them. My favorite was probably Dylan though."

"Yeah, that's just because you think you two are alike, all macho and crap. Mine had to be, I can't pick just one, Marco, Craig and Ellie. Mostly Marco though." I said, thoughtfully. I liked Marco probably because he was really shy, and got embarrassed so much. _Heh heh, kind of like me._

Maureen snorted, sounding very unladylike, which wasn't unlike her. "Of course. Marco is like, totally you Mark. And not just because of the name," she added hastily, and then grinned mischievously. "So far in the closet, you're just about to find Narnia."

"Shut up Mo!" I pleaded. Okay, maybe I shouldn't have gotten so defensive about it, but…well I don't know what I am myself, and having her accusing me doesn't make it any easier. I could feel a chuckle rumbling in Roger's chest, and I fake glared at him. All he did was tighten his half hug.

"It's okay Marky, you know we would love you either way." I scoffed at Roger's comment jokingly and shook my head.

"Yeah yeah whatever. Come on, we have to go the bell just rang," I pulled myself up off of Roger and stretched, a bit like a cat. Not paying attention, my shirt rose up slightly, leaving about an inch of darkly bruised, but otherwise very pale skin to show. I jumped when I felt Roger tug it down quickly and I saw the look on his face. I flushed lightly and had to turn away for a moment, a little bit ashamed to have Roger see that hidden part of me.

My ears caught the sound of a breath of air falling softly from Roger's lips and I grabbed my bag, starting to walk down the stairs. His warm hand laid on my shoulder for a moment, sending a shiver through my body.

"You shouldn't be carrying that. Here, I'll take it," I reluctantly handed over the bag, and continued out of the gym, Roger and Maureen by my sides this time. Maureen grabbed at my hand, taking it in hers and holding it reassuringly.

!!

A couple of hours later, the bell rang for lunch. I had the second lunch slot today, I was hoping that Roger and Maureen had it too. Walking with the crowd turned out to be a not-so-good idea. Almost everyone was bigger than me, I was bumped and jostled to the point that I gasped loudly as they hit a particularly bad bruise. Suddenly, a pair of hands settled on my sides and helped me wade through the sea of students over to an alcove where a classroom door was hidden, to wait out the rush. I turned and looked up to find my savior as none other than Roger, once again. I raised my eyebrow and smirked at him, crossing my arms across my chest. "You seem to have a thing for saving me Rog, it's getting kind of scary," I chuckled, following his lead and sliding down the wall to sit. I winced a bit, feeling the rough brick of the wall against my back.

Roger only grinned at me, doing that thing where he crinkles up his nose when he thinks something's funny. I don't think he even realizes that he does it. I punched his arm jokingly as the door to the classroom opened, and a familiar head popped out. "Collins!" I said, surprised. I hadn't realized which alcove Roger pulled me into. The teacher looked at us a bit oddly before smiling. "Should I ask why you are both sitting on the floor outside my door?"

Out of nowhere, I hear Roger snort loudly as he starts laughing. Thus, of course, making me laugh, and I was still occasionally giggling as Roger tried to explain. "The, um, the crowd was a bit much. Little Marky couldn't get through, he was just getting shoved all over the place so I…um, saved him and we decided to wait out the rush," Roger's face was red from laughing, as he poked my thigh with his toe when he mentioned my name.

Collins shook his head a bit, "You guys are weird. Come on, I'll show you a way to get around the crowd, there's another hallway that's longer but less crowded."

Roger and I both thanked the teacher profusely, Roger leaping up and holding out a hand to pull me up. I took it, trying not to cry out as I stood. Collins was watching me intently, so I tried my best to keep my face stony as I walked closely to Roger. Collins led us down a corridor with only a couple teachers and students walking along it, and to the lunchroom. He groaned lightly. "Urgh, they gave me lunch duty today. I have to watch over you little brats," He grinned and laughed at us.

At this, I stopped in the middle of the corridor, stood up to my full height, all 5 feet 2 inches of it, crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes jokingly. Roger turned to look at me and tried to hide a laugh. I looked at him, "What?!"

"Mark…man you gotta admit you don't look very intimidating," Roger said from behind his hand. I rolled my eyes, sticking my tongue out at him. "And be careful who you do that around. They may take it…the wrong way," He grinned at his perverted little joke.

"Wow," I say in disbelief. "Just…wow Rog." Just then I realized that Collins didn't even know who Roger was. "Oh! I totally forgot to introduce you guys. Collins, this is my best friend, Roger Davis. Rog, this is my philosophy teacher Collins. But you already know that," I grinned sheepishly at my forgetfulness.

Roger greeted him with a wave of the hand and a "Hey." We walked a little longer, the cafeteria coming into sight, in our usual position; Roger with his arm slung casually across my shoulder. We entered the cafeteria, finding Maureen sitting at a table near the doors and saving a couple seats for us. She jumped up, excitedly waving us over. "Mark, Roger! Over here!" I shook my head, rolling my eyes and grinning, walking over to her with Roger right beside me. The drama queen walked around the table, hugging me tightly. The only bad thing about the somewhat clean lunch table she had procured was that it was right next to where the teachers on lunch duty stood watch. So, when she asked in her usual loud voice (it's Maureen, for chrissakes, what other voice _could_ she use?!), "Markie! How are you feeling? Any better? How's your-"

At this point, I was glaring pointedly at her, trying to convey with my eyes that my teacher was right there, trying not to listen. But hell, when you're right next to a person or a group of people, it's obviously kind of hard to just _ignore_ their conversation.

"Wha-Ohhhhh," Maureen finally understanding. "I'm just gonna shut up now. But you know Mark…"

I almost growled at this point, throwing myself down onto the bench next to Roger as Maureen went back around to the other side. "Not. Right. Now." I insisted through gritted teeth, looking down at the table. "I don't want to talk about it. It's my life, I've got it under control." Now, I knew very well that this was in no way true. And they knew it as well, if I was to judge by the looks they shared.

Grumbling slightly under my breath, I laid my head down on my arms. "I'm so fucking tired," I mumbled. Roger put his hand on my elbow, bringing my attention to the question I didn't know he was asking.

"What do you want for lunch?" Ah, this infamous question. Everyday since 6th grade, Roger and I have split a hot lunch. And everyday, he asks me what I want. No use for it, really, seeing that we always just get the chicken patty and fries.

"Fish tacos," I rolled my eyes. Roger chuckled, getting up off the bench and jogging over to the now dwindling lunch line.

!!

When the final bell rang, I hurriedly grabbed Roger's arm, effectively waking him up and dragging him out of our world history class.

"Come on," I said shortly. "You're coming with me to Collins's department night, we'll drag Maureen along too."

It wasn't that I didn't want to go, because I did. I thought it might be fun. But I knew it would only mean more questions. I was so sick of questions!

After pulling a surprisingly compliant and sleepy Roger through the halls, we found Maureen standing by her locker talking to a girl I guessed to be her locker partner.

"Hey! Roger, Marky, this is Joanne Jefferson," Maureen introduced us, bouncing on her heels as she snapped her gum obnoxiously.

"Hi Joanne," I greeted her pleasantly, before turning to my hyper friend. "Mau, don't call me Marky."

Maureen only rolled her eyes at me as Joanne held a hand over her mouth to hide her amusement. "Why not? Roger does all the time!"

"Well…yeah, but he's Roger," I shrugged, poking Roger in the side to wake him up the rest of the way. History always put at least one of us to sleep.

Maureen raised an eyebrow, an unbearable smirk on her face. Whispering just loud enough for Joanne and me to hear, she said, "You so like him."

I gasped in horror, looking over to make sure Roger hadn't heard as Joanne pretty much guffawed and burst into laughter. Roger looked at me in confusion while I glared at Maureen. "I really, really hate you Maureen. But right now, you are coming with Rog and me to Collins's department night."

We all said goodbye to Joanne, who was about to miss her bus, and made our way to the philosophy classroom. Roger walked in first, Maureen grabbing my arm to whisper in my ear.

"You never denied it," she said softly, a calculating look coming over her face.

"I don't, okay?!" I all but shouted, wrenching my arm from her grasp as I walked inside, not bothering to hold the door open for Maureen. I hoped it was enough to convince Maureen…and myself.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: hey guys, hope u like it. Feedback would be greatly appreciated , thanks!

Chapter 4 of will I wake

Upon entering the philosophy classroom, I pointedly ignored Maureen, who huffed about it, and turned to Collins desk. However, I was surprised to see a young man, about the same age as Collins, maybe a little younger, sitting on top of the teacher's desk, facing Collins who sat in his swivel chair. I was even more surprised to see Collins's hand resting lightly on the man's thigh, though it was quickly removed when we came in. The teacher's face flushed slightly, "Oh…um hi, this is Angel."

I looked over, rolling my eyes as I heard Roger snickering lightly at the teacher's embarrassment. Flashing a smile at Angel, I stuck my hand out and greeted him brightly. "Hey! I'm Mark. This is Roger." And when I saw Maureen walk in, grumbling under her breath, "And this is our local drama queen, Maureen."

Angel giggled softly and shook my hand energetically. "Hi! Tommy's told me about you Mark."

I blushed and smiled bashfully, Roger laughing and coming up behind me, making me squeak slightly as he ruffled my hair. "He's a bit shy, eh Mark?" I fake growled at him, crossing my arms and moving away. Seeing Maureen staring in our direction, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face, made me unbelievably mad. But at the same time, I couldn't help but think that maybe she was right. It's possible…I mean really, did it mean anything at all that Roger and I were so close? We were friends…just friends. I swear. Just because he was the one I wanted to hold me after _those_ nights didn't mean a thing.

Collins and Angel both chuckled at the interaction, Angel now holding Collins' hand in his own, surprisingly manicured ones. Maureen gasped, seeing the sparkling blue nail polish, and quickly walked over. "Oh my god! I _love_ your nails!" Angel's eyes widened, and looked to Collins. But at the smile he gave him, Angel looked back at Maureen and smiled brightly. "Thank you sugar!"

Roger was watching this exchange from his…er…seat. Which was actually his position on top of a few desks, lying down on his back with his head hanging upside down over the edge. I laughed at him, watching his face slowly turn red. It didn't bother him though, and I went over to him, sitting on the edge of the desk beside him. Out of nowhere, I felt his arms lock around my torso tightly, causing me to jump out of surprise.  
"Hey Marky!" he beamed at me, and I couldn't help but smile back at him. He was in a very playful mood today. I liked this Roger; this was _my_ Roger. He never acted like this around anyone but me, and that meant the world to me. So, I leaned down, hugging him back.

"Hiii Roggy," I mocked him good-naturedly, still in his embrace. The thing was, I was now practically lying on top of him, and yet it didn't feel awkward at all. However, I did flush greatly when I noticed the other three in the room staring at us, and I could tell Maureen wanted to "Aww!" at us. I tried to get up, not wanting to, but I was embarrassed. Roger didn't let me; he pulled me down farther, and grinned till his face looked like it was about to crack. Giving in, I laid against him, letting my head rest softly on his chest.

It was so obvious to me what Maureen was thinking at the moment. I knew that by playing along with Roger's games I was only digging myself into a deeper hole. But somehow, lying there in Roger's arms, that didn't matter. The only thing in the world was us.

I was so tired. Well...after last night, who wouldn't be? Roger tightened his grip around me when he noticed my half lidded eyes.

"Hey," he said gently. "You tired?"

I nodded sleepily and let one arm rest over Roger's waist, the other hand clutching his arm against me protectively.

I slowly let my eyes close all the way, knowing that I didn't have to be scared to close my eyes anymore, not if I was with Roger. Just as I drifted off though, my eyes flew open at the sound of the classroom's telephone, ringing shrilly from behind Collins' desk. Flinching violently, I was angry at myself for once again being all jumpy. Roger looked at me curiously, but just rubbed my side soothingly.

We were all silent while listening to the one sided phone conversation until Collins hung up the phone, looking at the notepad that he had written a message on.

"Hey, Mark," the teacher said, a sympathetic look on his face. I inwardly groaned, knowing this couldn't be good. Collins started to read from the little notepad. "Your mom just called the front office with a message for you. Your sister is in the hospital at least overnight so your mother can't pick you up so you'll be going home with Roger. She called your father but had to leave a message, so if he's available later on he will come get you, if not you'll just stay at Roger's family's house."

My face fell even further. I was happy that I might get to spend extra time with Roger and his family, but I knew my dad would take any chance he could to get me to stay at his house...for some not so good reasons. I sat up on the edge of the desk, my face turned down. "Thanks," I whispered, trying to maintain at least some form of manners. Roger got up, wrapping his arms around my torso and laying his head between my shoulder blades.

"It's gonna be okay," I heard comforting words whispered so only I could hear, and I held tightly onto Roger's arms that were still clutched around me.

Collins came over, along with Angel and Maureen, approaching us cautiously. Collins reached us first, putting a hand lightly on my shoulder. It made me cringe a bit at first, usually Roger was the only person that could touch me without making me flinch, but after a second when I realized it wasn't my father I didn't mind so much.

"I'm sorry man. That's gotta really suck. Is she in the hospital a lot?" Oh. I was afraid for a minute there he was talking about my dad. Phew.

Caught off guard, it took me a second to answer. "Oh, um, yeah. She was born prematurely, so she's always sick and stuff. It's probably just RSV again." I explained quietly, still hung up in Roger's embrace.

I looked up at the others for a moment, as usual hardly making eye contact. I did notice, however, that Angel was going a bit googly eyed. A little bit like Maureen. And as they noticed me watching them they gave a simultaneous "Awww!", therefore causing me to flush bright red and hide my face in Roger's shoulder, fake growling at them.

Roger gave half a laugh, not entirely happy with what was happening, but knowing he couldn't change it. I knew that he was thinking about what I was doing at the moment. I had once again put on my 'mask'. I looked up to Roger, and knowing no one else could see my face, dropped my mask just for him. My eyes caught his, and I knew he could see the fear held in them. My eyes filled with tears, but long ago I had learned to keep them from falling. Roger stared into my eyes, trying to convey comfort through a look. I was so grateful for what happened next.

"Well if you're coming home with me I think we're leaving soon...I need to go down to the bathroom first. You wanna come with me Mark?"

I nodded at once, so unbelievably grateful that Roger knew me so well and knew when I needed some time. Before turning back around, I slipped my mask back on, concentrating on holding in the tears until I could get into safe territory...Roger.

I slipped off of him (somehow I had gotten to be sitting on his lap) and stood, head down, arms wrapped around myself. Roger lightly hopped down, and lightly resting his hand against my lower back, guided me forward and excused the both of us.

Once the door had slammed shut behind us, I couldn't hold back and a tear dripped down my cheek, followed by another and another. Seeing that I was still looking down, and as usual my tears were accompanied by absolutely no noise, I don't know how Roger knew that I was crying. But somehow, he did, and he stopped the both of us right there against some lockers in the deserted hallway and took me into his arms, holding me tight in a bear hug.

"Roger," I choked out, stumbling through my tears. "Roger I don't wanna go there again tonight. I can't, I can't do it!"

"Shh...shh Marky...I got you, it's okay, everything's going to be okay," he was so good at comforting me...he was the only one that could really calm me down. The whole time he spoke he stroked my back, laying his head on top of mine.

After a moment he pulled back, still holding onto my arms and guiding me to sit back against the lockers while he kneeled in front of me. My head automatically went down, but was stopped when Roger lifted my chin. "Mark?" he whispered, making sure he had my attention. "Don't worry okay...It's going to be fine. You'll come home with me...we'll make up an excuse or something if he calls. Don't worry."

Nodding shakily, I tried to believe him. Of course, I was still scared. But Roger's words helped a lot.

"Now, come on. Let's go clean you up and then I think we're getting a ride home from Maureen's mom. Tonight will be fine, you'll see. Oh! You'll get to come meet the new neighbors with us," Roger said excitedly, obviously trying to distract me.

I was able to half smile at his attempt, and allowed him to pull me up off the floor.

After washing my face in the bathroom to rid it of tearstains, we headed back to the classroom, walking so close that we bumped hands and arms constantly.

As we approached the door, Roger must have noticed me drawing in a shaky breath, because he laid a comforting arm around my shoulders before walking in beside me.

Maureen smiled softly at us, no longer teasing. She could be annoying, but was a great friend. She knew when I was having a hard time.

"You okay honey?" Angel inquired worriedly.

My breath caught and I looked up, not knowing what to say. I opened and closed my mouth, searching for words until Angel spoke again.

"And what happened to your eye sweetie? That looks painful!"

I faked a chuckle. "It's not that bad. I just, uh, I fell."

Uh oh. I knew I was in deep, deep trouble now, by the look on Collins' face. The teacher crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the desk and furrowing his brows.

"I though you said you walked into a door?"

Silently cursing, I tried to find some way to fix this. How could I have been so stupid? My breathing got shallow, my heart was beating way too fast. My fear must have shown on my face because the next thing I knew, Roger's hand was rubbing gently up and down my arm.

"Um…I, I fell…into a door?" I squeaked out nervously. I knew it wasn't believable. Collins sighed and looked down at his feet.

"I don't know if I believe you Mark…But for now, I'll let it go," He said softly.

For a moment, I had to look away, my eyes watering. What was wrong with me lately? I shouldn't be crying like this…I'm not weak.

Roger's arm snaked around my shoulders, squeezing comfortingly.

"S'okay Mark," Roger whispered to me.

Maureen cleared her throat awkwardly, shuffling her feet. "Um…I think we have to go guys, my mom should be here by now."

I nodded quickly, glad to get away. With Roger's arm still firmly around me, we all said our goodbyes to Collins and Angel, me mumbling awkwardly.

Walking out to Maureen's mom's car, I shivered even though I was wearing Roger's heavy sweatshirt. I leaned into Roger, not caring anymore what Maureen-or anyone- said about our physical closeness. Maureen got into the front seat and immediately started bickering with her mom, leaving Roger and me to climb into the back of the van.

Sighing, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the world pass me by. I blocked out the sound of the yelling and the blaring radio, closing my eyes tightly and imagining I was somewhere else, someone else. Anything but the life I had now.

Minutes later, I was so lost in my dream world I hadn't even realized we had stopped in front of Roger's house until I felt his hand on my knee. Jumping up, I quickly thanked Mrs. Johnson and hurried after Roger, eager to get inside.

I followed Roger closely into the house, my hand gripping his arm tightly. Once inside, I dropped my bag silently to the floor, leaving my shoes beside his. All the thoughts that were racing through my mind made my head hurt. Thinking back on the day, my eyes once again flooded with unshed tears. I forced myself to hold them back, but yet again Roger saw through my facade and put his hands on my shoulders, leading me to his couch.

As he pulled me down to sit with him, he wrapped his strong arms around me, one hand guiding my head to lay against his shoulder. I took advantage of that, letting myself melt into his embrace, letting go and finally allowing the tears to run down my face.

Roger held me close to him, whispering to me and drying my tears. I brought my legs up to my chest, curling into a ball against him. My head jerked up when I heard footsteps on the stairs, but I let out a breath of relief and relaxed when I saw that it was only Jessie, Roger's older sister.

"Hey guys," she said softly, coming down the stairs and over to us to kiss the top of my head. "Hey Marky," she handed me a tissue from the box on the coffee table, which I took gratefully.

"Thanks," I whispered, voice clogged with tears, and managed a very weak smile. "And don't call me Marky!"

Jessie just laughed and ruffled my hair playfully. Jessie and I were pretty close, seeing that I spent so much time at Roger's place. I felt totally comfortable around the older girl, and she was like a sister to me, the way we joked around and stuff.

Plopping down on the edge of the coffee table, Jessie faced us, watching with a mischievous smirk on her face. "Oh yeah, I forgot...only Roggy can call you that, huh?"

"Hey!" I yelped, pretending to be offended. I stuck my tongue out childishly at her, snuggling closer to Roger. "My Roggy," I said haughtily, making all three of us laugh at the absurdity of my voice.

After we had calmed down from our little giggling fit (which, might I add, must have looked quite odd if one was to think about the tear tracks still littering my face), Jessie spoke again. "Mom should be home soon, her shift ends at 5 today. She's bringing pizza for dinner and then we're going to meet the new neighbors tonight. You know Rog, the ones that just moved into the old Martinez house?"

Roger gave a groan. "Mhmm...great. We get to be tortured with meeting more old people. Why is it that everyone that lives around here are all old?!"

I chuckled and flinched when I heard the click of the lock in the door. Roger looked at me, obviously really worried about why I was so jumpy today. His hand moved up and down my back, calming me greatly. Roger's mother, Carolyn, (though I call her Carrie) walked in, juggling a water bottle and a large pizza box. Jessie ran over to help her, taking the pizza and putting it on the kitchen table in the next room. Carrie sighed wearily, setting down her purse and opening her arms for us. "Hey boys," she said happily as we both came to her, Roger kissing her cheek as she hugged the both of us strongly.

A second later there was a yell from Jessie in the kitchen. "Will you three hurry up, I'm starving over here!"

Roger gave a slightly annoyed look. "Ignore her Mark. PMS." He said this softly, but obviously not softly enough according to the glare on Jessie's face, and the joking whap to the back of his head from Carrie.

I giggled boyishly, causing Roger to turn to me. "You laughing at me, Mark?" A scheming grin took over his face and my eyes widened, running to take cover behind Carrie and Jessie as Roger tried to get to me. "I'll get you for that Markyboy! No one laughs at me!"

I couldn't help but to full out laugh heartily now. Still behind the two women, I gasped when they stepped away from me, holding both my arms and allowing Roger to close in on me. "Nooo!" I cried, laughing hysterically as Roger tickle tortured me. "Traitors!" His hands moved like torturous feathers over my sides and belly. Roger knew every one of my weak spots...though I knew all of his as well. So it was pretty evened out.

Roger finally stopped when the phone gave a sharp ring. Carrie moved towards the phone, but Roger's hand gently placed on her arm stopped her, and she looked back at him curiously. "Mom," he mumbled softly. "I think we should screen the calls tonight. Please."

Carrie nodded, a bit suspiciously, but didn't ask any questions. I held my breath, afraid to see what may come next. Sensing my distress, Roger's arms were once again around me, awaiting the dreaded voice message.

_Riiiing._

_Riiing._

_Hi! You've reached the Davis', we're not available right now but leave your name and number and we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!_

"Hello. Carolyn, this is James, James Cohen, Mark's father. His mother left me a message to call here. I'd like to pick Mark up for the night. I think it's time for some...one on one father-son time. Call me back as soon as you get this message."

The cold voice disappeared with a click, leaving silence in the room, except for the quickened pace of my terrified heart.


	5. Chapter 5

1Chapter 5

rating goes up a bit in this chapter

A/N: Hey everyone, I cried while writing this chappie just to let you know sobsob I'd really like to have some reviews though, I feel like I need some constructive criticism especially about the details. Is the amount too much or too little?? Thanks peeps I appreciate it

o and also, sorry that this chapter took a bit longer, court dates and stuff

PS: I don't own rent. If I did, the whole thing would be mark and roger making out. XD

The rest of the night at Roger's house had been spent sullen and quiet. I insisted that I had to call my father back, and that I did, and was told that he was picking me up at seven that evening. After supper, all four of us went out to the living room to watch television, Jessie and Roger's mother on one couch, and Roger and I on the love seat, him behind me with his arms wrapped around my torso. And then, when my father came in to get me, I could tell he was furious at the position he saw us in. I said goodbye to Roger with tears in my eyes, hugging him tightly and promising to see him the next morning.

After the completely silent and tense car ride, I hesitantly slid out of the car, flinching

violently when he slammed the door of the car. He stalked into the house, me following meekly

behind him. Straight away, he headed for the kitchen, to his liquor cabinet, and slammed down a

bottle of Jack Daniels. Oh, hardcore tonight. Fun.

"Your sister's not home. She's working the late shift tonight," he growled in a low voice,

before chugging straight from the bottle of Jack Daniels. "And no hiding out on the computer

today, we need to have some...bonding time."

I gulped, my hands trembling, and went to perch myself on the edge of the living room

couch. I listened intently to the sounds coming from the next room, so used to them I knew what

would come next.

Just as I feared, at the sound of the bottle clinking against the others, I heard his footsteps

coming into the living room. My breath quickened as he came closer, until he was so close I

could easily smell the foul stench of the alcohol on his breath. As he grabbed my wrist in a vice

like grip, I cringed, holding back a whimper of pain as I closed my eyes tightly.

"Please...no," I whimpered softly, trying to pull away.

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!" he growled, yanking me up from the couch.

I tried uselessly to get away, pulling my arm back but unable to get out of his grasp. In my

mind, I just kept thinking of Roger, of how much I needed him. As he shoved me against the wall,

I couldn't help but to cry out Roger's name.

"You little fag! You want your little boyfriend eh?" he sneered, shaking me endlessly.

"He's not my boyfriend!" I yelled out, even while knowing what a bad idea it was to

backtalk my father.

"Yeah sure. Don't friggin lie to me Mark, you're only making this harder on yourself!"

"I'm not lying," I whimpered, gasping in pain as my head hit the wall. He shoved me

down, jeering at me as I crumpled to the floor. I barely had time to curl up to protect my chest and

stomach when I felt his foot connect with my side, and I saw stars. As I tried to regain the ability

to breathe, he didn't let up at all, and grabbed my shirt.

"Get up!" he screamed, hardly giving me a chance to scramble to my feet before he hit me

again in the stomach. "No son of mine is going to be a fairy boy, it's about time I turned you

straight!" he held a tight grip on my shoulder, pushing me down the hall to my room...if you

could call it that. It was tiny, barely big enough to fit my bed and broken dresser.

Oh god...I hoped to god he wasn't planning what I thought he was. See...there's something

no one knows, not even Roger. What my dad did to me...it wasn't just physical. I mean, he hadn't

gone all the way yet, he just...well, he touched me sometimes...and he made me...there's no good

way to say this, he made me suck him. That was probably the worst thing so far, it was so

degrading. But I was really scared right now, the nasty gleam in my father's eyes had never been

that hungry.

What seemed like only seconds later, I was laying face down on my bed, struggling to get

away, but unable to fight his tight grasp. Tears streamed down my face, and out of nowhere, my

pants were down around my ankles. White, burning, blinding pain hit me hard as he entered me,

and I heard my ragged breathing mixed with his grunts and dirty muttering. I cried, my stomach

hurt and I wanted to throw up. As he pushed in and out of me mercilessly, I screamed painfully,

and the world finally graced me with nothingness as I blacked out.

The next morning, I woke up extremely early to find that it was still completely dark out.

Ugh...I was such a mess. I felt disgusting, I had dried tear stains all over my face and the lower

half of my body was sticky with blood and...other things. And holy shit, I hurt. I could barely

move, every time I did, I just wanted to die.

Taking a deep breath, and coughing as I did so, gasping and trying to gain control of my breathing again, I squeezed my eyes shut and very slowly sat up, gripping the sheets tightly as I tried to overcome the pain searing through my body. As I stood up, I wavered slightly, becoming dizzy and clutching my stomach. I moaned softly, it hurt so bad...running (or limping as fast as I could) to the bathroom, I barely made it in time to lean over the sink, emptying the contents of my stomach, and then when that finished, dry heaving took it's place with wracking spasms. Panting heavily I washed out my mouth with shaking hands before looking up to the dirty mirror. I stared, captivated and disgusted with the image looking back at me. This...this wasn't me. It couldn't be. This...this person looking back at me, this complete stranger looked horrible. Dark circles blemished the area under his eyes, one blacker than the other from the still lingering black eye. Face gaunt and pale, his eyes looked sunken in, an extremely dull blue showing in the terrified, scared looking eyes. And the worst thing was...he looked like he had given up, like his entire spirit had left him.

Sullenly, I walked back to my room. As I sat on my bed, trying to not cry, I started digging through my bag...aha. I found it, what I was looking for. The thing I needed so badly...sharp, silver and shining, it rested in the palm of my hand as I stared down at it. My blade. I rolled up my sleeve to the elbow, immediately placing the edge of the glistening metal to my pale white skin, marred with plenty of scars already made by this very same blade, and pressed down, dragging it over my skin. I shuddered, eyes closing lightly and breathing heavily. When I opened my eyes, I looked down, seeing the extreme contrast between my skin and the dark, crimson colored blood seeping out of the cut. I sighed softly...I felt lighter now, cleaner. Better.

I can't explain it very well...but this...I needed this so badly. Without it, I felt dirty, hopeless...I needed this, my release. No more feeling numb, when I had this blade, I didn't have to feel numb anymore...actually, that's not right. This blade took away the numbness, and yet caused it too. It erased the other pain, it made me feel it less, it allowed me to survive and live my life without being pulled down by what my father has done to me. But at least when I did this, I could know I was alive, know I was still here.

While I was repeating this over and over again, lines upon lines of red, ugly and yet beautiful marks showing up among all the others, one, single lone tear fell from my eyes, dropping onto my arm and mixing with the crimson liquid gathering there. I sneered at myself, hating that I cried, hating that I was always so emotional. I finally put the blade down, feeling a bit better now, and wiped the blood from my arm as I pressed down firmly to make the bleeding stop. "I don't wanna be me..." I came to the realization in a whisper, yet it felt like a scream, as if I was finally waking up to reality. Only to find that...not much had changed. Here I was, a 14 year old boy, my life was falling to pieces, and I wanted to die. I wanted everything to be over with, I couldn't do it anymore. I had lost my dignity, every last piece of it. Up until last night I had been able to barely hang on to a scrap of it...but no more. No, now I had nothing, no sense of self preservation or anything.

Shaking my head to rid my mind of these depressing thoughts, I headed into the shower, taking great care not to look at my body as I washed up as quickly as possible, scouring my body harshly with scorching hot water. I didn't even care that it turned my skin bright red, stinging every inch of my raw and broken skin. It felt good. After a short time I stepped out of the shower, shivering at the brisk air and hurriedly drying myself with a towel and slipping into a pair of huge sweat pants and a tee shirt, then throwing on a large sweatshirt over that. I sighed...happy to have bulky, oversized clothes to hide my body that seemed to be the cause of all this evil.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on the front steps of the school with my knees up to my chest and watching people pass me by. It made me think...did they realize that there were things in the world more devastating than chipping a nail or not being allowed to go out on a Friday night? I huddled self consciously into the corner of the steps...why did I feel like everyone knew what had happened? How disgusting and messed up I was?

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Roger arrived and came over to me, cautiously sitting down next to me. "Hey," he murmured softly, looking at my scared and distraught face. "What happened last night?" He tried to put a comforting hand on my back, but I shrunk away, embarrassed. He almost looked hurt...but I knew he was more worried than hurt.

"Sorry..." I whispered, looking away. "I...I don't want to talk about it. I can't."

"Marky...what can I do?" I looked up into his eyes for only a second, but it was long enough to see how bad he wanted to help me. I opened my mouth, then closing it, not knowing what to say. He held his arms open a bit, unsurely, and after hesitating for only a second I fell into them, gripping onto him tightly. His arms came around my still trembling body, gently and yet still firmly enough to give me comfort.

"Mark, look at me for a second," he said, a command in his voice. I did, tilting my head up, when he put a hand on my cheek ever so gently. For a moment my eyes drifted closed, the warmth of his hand just felt so good. "I don't know exactly what he did, and I'm not going to make you tell me if you don't want to. But whatever it was...I'm here for you, remember that. If you need or want anything at all, don't be afraid to ask me...even if you just need a hug or something. I'm good at hugs," he said, the corners of his lips turning up a bit. Oh...I knew he was good at hugs. I couldn't get enough of his hugs.

I nodded silently, wishing I didn't ever have to leave his arms, but I knew that was futile. Maureen came up just then, chatting with Collins who looked a bit overwhelmed by the energetic drama queen. It was so obvious he wasn't a morning person, there were papers half falling out of his bag and he had a jumbo sized cup of coffee in hand.

I didn't bother to remove myself from Roger's side, I needed contact with him right now so badly, I was still so unbelievably scared and in immeasurable pain. Maureen screeched upon seeing me, running up and not so gently throwing her arms around me. I flinched back, turning my face as if expecting to be hit. "Mark?" Maureen said softly, looking guilty. "Sorry..." her face displayed concern, and I looked down, hating this. I mean...I appreciated that she was worried about me but I hated the reason why she was.

Collins averted his gaze, not wanting to make me uncomfortable, but I could see the wheels in his mind turning. He set down his coffee and straightened out his bag before turning back to us. "Hey boys," he said tiredly. "Ugh I am so not used to being up this early. It's torture I swear."

I faked a chuckle, dropping pretenses and taking Roger's hand in mine. I think he was a bit surprised, but didn't object and he squeezed my hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. It was weird...I got a weird feeling in my chest when he did that, it was like my heart fluttered or something...okay. So maybe Maureen was right. Maybe...maybe I did like him. I looked surreptitiously over at him, admiring the way the early morning light hit his face. Well he certainly was gorgeous...there was no denying that. And he was just so sweet...I could never forget that. He caught me watching him and I gave him a half smile, leaning against his side. Maureen smirked at me, and I blushed, but looked right back in her eyes, nodding a bit at her silent question to which her face lit up happily.

"Marky! Come here, we need to have a talk!" She pulled me up and I stumbled after her, looking back and rolling my eyes at the other two.

Leading me over out of earshot of Roger and Collins, she squealed excitedly. "You like him!"

I sighed, but smiled a bit. "Yeah..." I said with a blush. I looked down, toeing the ground with my shoe.

"Ah don't be embarrassed hun, that's so cute!"

"No...no it's not. Because you know he's not...he's not like this. He would never like me...this way. He's got girls all over him," I said sadly, quietly.

"Sure he's got girls all over him but did you ever notice that he's not all over them? Mark...did you ever think that he might like you back?" She asked, wanting to make me believe her.

"I-I don't..." I trailed off after stuttering, of course I had thought about it, but I knew he would never like me like that. "Can we just drop it?" I pleaded softly. My eyes drifted away, as they glazed over and I spaced out, thinking about everything that had been happening lately.

Maureen searched my face analytically, biting her lip. "Mark?" she asked hesitantly. "Something bad happened, didn't it? Like...something worse than before?"

I looked away, wrapping my arms around my stomach protectively. Just thinking about it made a rush of nausea come over me once more. My head dropped, I didn't want her to see my eyes watering.

She seemed to realize though, because she put a hand on my arm. My head snapped up and I jerked back, eyes wide. "Mark. Something's wrong."

Okay, so obviously she was right. But I wasn't going to let her know that...no one could find out about this, ever. This...things like this didn't happen to people like me. "No...no, it's nothing." I lied through my teeth, backing away.

"Stop lying to me Mark!" she cried out suddenly, and I knew that my face betrayed my fear, I knew it showed so clearly. Shaking my head forcefully, I couldn't look at her, and instead, I ran away.

I ran past Roger and Collins, into the school, past plenty of people that raised eyebrows and laughed at me. I didn't think about what I was doing, just ran to the nearest bathroom, locking myself in a stall. Well, trying to anyway, the locks really didn't work. Eyes wild and breath heaving, pain coursing through my body, I viciously tore through my backpack. I needed it. Now.

Though it seemed to take forever, I finally found the blade. It was hidden in the bottom of my bag, and I sighed, relieved as I pulled it out victoriously. Rolling my sleeve up for the second time that day, I hurriedly and needily pressed the shining metal to my skin. However, I got hardly any sense of relief at all before the stall door slammed open, revealing Roger, who had quite obviously run after me.

"Mark?" he asked weakly, eyes drifting down to look at the blade in my hand, still pressed against my arm where a line of blood was just barely starting to appear.

((hmm...should I end it here?? grins evilly ahh, nah I'll give you some more. XD))

It was so hard for me to lift my face, to meet Roger's eyes. What if he hated me? What if he thought I was a freak or something? "R-Roger," I stuttered out, "It...It's not what it looks like, I-I can explain, I swear." I said this, but as I thought, nothing came to me that I could use to explain this.

Roger's mouth was open, but then he closed it, not able to find the words to speak. "Mark, I...I don't know what to say," his voice was quiet, calm, and yet scared. "C'mere," he whispered hoarsely, and wrapped his arms around me. "How often?" He asked softly after a moment. I backed away a bit, rolling my sleeve up a bit more to reveal dozens and dozens of scars. Some were a ghostly white, some pink, and some bright, bright red.

"I'm sorry," I told him, "So, so sorry...I, I didn't mean to, please don't be mad at me," I begged him for this, I wouldn't be able to stand it if he was mad at me.

He just looked at me, face portraying how scared he was, and practically attacked me in the biggest hug I've ever gotten. "It's okay Marky," he whispered in my ear. "I'm not mad at you...I just want to help you," he told me, moving to put his hands on my shoulders and look me in the eye. "You're my best friend Mark...I'm here for you."

He very gently took my arm in his hand, looking carefully at it. "Marky, we should get you a band-aid."

I looked down, surprised to see that it was, in fact, bleeding more than I had thought. "B-but, I don't wanna go to the nurse..." I said softly. I knew she would want to know what happened.

Roger thought for a moment, before offering me a gentle smile and leading me out of the stall. "Come on. We'll go to Collins, teacher's usually have some."

I nodded silently, following him, and hesitantly grabbing his hand in mine. He looked back at me, smiling. "It's going to be okay Marky," he promised me, squeezing my hand.

We headed off to Collins' classroom, and I was grateful to see that it must have been his free period, because there was no one else in the room besides him. "Hey Coll," Roger said naturally, and it made me feel a lot better that he wasn't making this into a huge deal. "Do you have a band-aid?"

I stayed silent as Collins nodded and rummaged through his desk drawer. "Here you go...is everything okay?" he asked concernedly as he caught sight of my bleeding arm. My face heated, and Roger looked at me, before turning back to Collins and taking the bandage. "Thanks. Yeah...we've got it under...we're getting it under control," the best friend I could ever ask for told the teacher, who cautiously accepted the answer.

Roger positioned me to sit on a desk, and he ever so gently wiped the excess blood away from my arm with a tissue before placing the bandage over the cut. I shivered slightly when his fingers brushed against my skin, finding comfort in the warmth of his hands. When he reluctantly removed his hands from my arm, I leaned forward, hugging him around the waist and resting my forehead against his chest. This...this was a bit weird, but in a good way. I mean, I was used to being touchy-feely with Roger, we were totally comfortable hugging and everything, but, I could tell we were closer now than ever before, and I knew that I could lean on him. And I did that, turning my head so I could hear his heart beating soothingly in my ear. Feeling his chin rest gently on top of my blonde hair, I closed my eyes softly, and sighed against his chest.

The teacher slowly stood up, coming around to the front of his desk. "Mark," he started hesitantly, searching for the right words. "How...how are things at home?"

"F-Fine...why?" I stuttered out, not looking Collins in the eye. Roger's grip tightened on me, and I realized I was shaking a bit.

"I had someone telling me earlier that you were being hurt," he said gently. "We can help you Mark."

I shook my head, trying to force a smile. "There's no need, everything's fine," I lied through clenched teeth, my hands shaking nervously now.

Collins sighed deeply, looking down and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Mark I'm sorry, but as protocol requires, because there was this accusation, I have to ask you some questions."

I gulped nervously, but nodded unsurely, not loosening my grip one bit around Roger.

"Has your father ever hurt you?"

I immediately shook my head emphatically. "No." I said forcefully.

"Has he ever...um, touched you? In a way that made you feel uncomfortable?"

At this my head shot up and over to Collins, glaring slightly, not at the teacher, but just glaring. "He is my father. A father wouldn't ever, _ever_ do that to his son," I practically yelled, ripping away from Roger's arms, grabbing my bag, and stalking out of the room.

I could faintly hear Roger hurriedly saying goodbye to Collins before rushing after me, and luckily the halls were empty because I practically collapsed in his arms. He caught me, holding me up and against his own body, and helped me to sit down against the wall.

After a moment, when I had stopped shaking so badly and had regained myself at least a little bit, he offered his hand, pulling me up gently. "Come on," he whispered, leading me to the nurse's office.

Along the way, I wiped away the tears as best as I could, but some still slowly dripped down my ashen face. When we reached the small, crowded office, Roger didn't let me go at all, and turned to the secretary. "Excuse me," he said politely. "Um, I have to call my mom..to pick us up. It's um...we really need to go home," I hoped the secretary would listen to Roger, once she looked at me and saw my distraught face.

Nodding softly, she picked the phone up and handed it to Roger. "Dial 9 and then the number sweety."

I watched, half in a daze, as Roger called and spoke to his mother. He nodded a couple times, explaining that they needed to come home, but just saying that I didn't feel up to staying in school, but not explaining the reason why. When he hung up, he pulled me into his strong arms, holding me there. "Jessie is coming to pick us up," he explained, as we went to stand inside the front doors to wait for her.

((sorry it ends kind of abruptly, I kept going but couldn't find a place to stop so I just ended it here))


	6. Chapter 6

1Chapter 6

A/N: Hola peeps. Enjoy loves =] sorry its kinda short. Im kinda stuck on what to write next lol.

P.S. Oh btw, this chapter and all the mark/roger comforting in it is dedicated to my absolutely WONDERFUL girlfriend, my lovely, adorable, cute, sweet kia. Love u baby 3

Once we had arrived at Roger's house and Jessie unlocked the front door, she turned to Roger. "I'll be in my room if you guys need anything," she said quietly, smiling comfortingly at me. "I hope everything's okay Mark honey."

I choked out a hoarse "Thanks," before Roger led me up to his room, where he sat me down beside him, taking my shaking hand in his strong one. I clutched his hand as if my life depended on it, scooting over, pressing my thigh against his.

"Mark," Roger said quietly. "Can you tell me what happened?" He pleaded gently.

I averted my gaze, staring blankly at his wall, and maneuvered around to curl up on the edge of his bed.

Needless to say, I was quite surprised to feel Roger lay down beside me and hold me tightly in his arms. My tears increased at this show of sweetness, and I rolled over, pressing my face into his chest. His hand stroked my hair, shushing me as he would an infant.

"Roger...," I whimpered quietly, my voice muffled by his shirt. I wanted to tell him, but I was scared...so scared.

"It's okay Mark," Roger whispered. He pressed his lips to the top of my head, and then pulled a blanket up over us, allowing me to snuggle closer to the warmth of his body. "It's okay, you can tell me Marky."

I shook my head, ashamed. "I...I can't. I-I'm scared," I admitted softly.

"What are you scared of?"

"You'll...you'll hate me. You'll think I'm disgusting. I AM disgusting!" I cried out furiously, my voice choked by tears.

"Oh god Mark...what did he do to you? You're not disgusting...and I could never, ever hate you," he said passionately, holding me even closer to his protection and comfort. "Mark, listen to me, please. I love you. So, so much, I can't even describe it. You're my best friend, even more than that."

My entire body shaking, I realized I had to do this. I had to tell Roger.

"He...he did something....really, really bad," I whispered almost inaudibly. "P-please don't be mad at me," I whimpered, unable to look at him.

"I'm not, I promise I'm not, it's okay Mark, you're safe now, he can't hurt you here," he crooned, gently lifting my face and caressing my cheek. I leaned into his hand, sighing softly and letting my eyes flutter closed.

"H-He...he raped me," I whispered ashamedly. I felt Roger's chest tighten, and was astonished when I realized that he was crying. I cuddled closer to him, needing this...needing to feel every inch of our bodies pressed together. Tears coursed down my cheeks, unable to stop, and Roger kissed my forehead, not bothering to hold back even an ounce of emotion anymore.

"I'm so, so sorry Mark," he looked me in the eyes, and I could see just how much he was telling the truth. "I know...I know it doesn't help much, but I am. Please...just remember, I'm here. For anything, no matter what it is."

I nodded, before squeezing my eyes shut and burying my face in his neck, breathing in his scent. The only way to truly describe it was _warm_. A hint of boy-sweat, a musky, sweet, barely there smell. And also, something so purely Roger...I just couldn't think of words to say it, it was just him. And just so amazing...Mmmm...if only we could stay like this forever, and never move from right here, from this one moment in time. But, alas, that obviously can't happen...so I guess I'll just have to take advantage of it while we're here.

Only a few moments later, I realized I was drifting off. My eyelids grew heavy and I sighed sleepily, letting my body relax completely against Roger. "Shh...go to sleep love," Roger whispered, and despite the tears still staining my cheeks, I was able to give a small smile. I loved how he was calling me things like that...it made me feel all warm inside. Cliche, I know. But it's true.

I tugged the blankets farther up, covering myself right up to my face, and closed my eyes. What seemed like only minutes later, but what must have been hours according to the fact that the light was dimming outside, and Roger's mother was standing beside the bed, I woke blearily, still in Roger's arms. Knowing that since I was a light sleeper I would have woken if Roger had moved, I realized that he must have stayed there, just holding me the whole time I was asleep.

Carrie smiled at me when she noticed that I had woken up, and Roger looked down, gazing at me. "You look better," he murmured, not even loosening his grip on me. It always kind of amazed me that Carrie didn't have a problem with her only son being like this with another boy, but she was just cool like that.

I nodded silently. "I feel better now," I whispered, and though I didn't feel totally better, it wasn't as bad as before. At least I wasn't crying again or anything.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Carrie put a matronly hand on my arm. "Mark honey," she started, searching for words. "What's up hon?"

Looking away, I shook my head hesitantly. "I-It's nothing, just had a bad night," I whispered. It was so hard to lie to Carrie...just like with Roger, I felt compelled to tell her the truth...and I wanted to, but I couldn't. I couldn't do that to my father. I mean...yeah he did some bad stuff, but he's my father.

Roger sighed, I knew he wanted me to get help, but I also knew that he would respect my wishes. "Alright sweetie...well, you know I'm here, and of course Jessie and Roger too, if you want to talk about it okay?" Once I nodded, she continued. "And you want to stay over tonight? Your mom called again, your sister is still in the hospital. You can tell your father you and Roger have to do a school project or something."

My face lit up at that. "Really? That'll be awesome...thanks," I said, truly grateful.

"It's no problem at all love," Carrie said, ruffling my hair. "Now come on you two, supper is ready. We have to get some meat on those bones Mark!"

I blushed, but grinned as I got up along with Roger. I was about to stand up and stretch, when Roger smirked. "Hold on," he said, and got in front of me, bending down. "Climb on!" I laughed as I did as I was told, and his hands firmly held onto my thighs, giving me a piggy back ride down the stairs. Carrie looked back at us and chuckled.

"You boys are crazy," she gazed adoringly at us. I loved this...Roger's family was so amazing, I felt safe here.

Roger carefully carried me into the kitchen, depositing me into my seat at the kitchen table and taking up his spot next to me. Carrie and Jessie came over, setting bowls of chicken soup in front of us, and warm air from the bowls wafted to us. "Mm...this smells awesome Carrie."

Carrie thanked me warmly as she sat down next to Jessie, and we all dug into the soup. It was perfect, nice and warm, and I found that I could eat it without feeling sick. However, after eating three quarters of the bowl, I felt really full. And then, though I was okay at first and I thought the soup would stay down, another wave of nausea hit me, and out of nowhere I quickly stood up from the table, running to the bathroom. Luckily, I got there just in time to lean over the sink, stomach aching as once again the entire contents of my stomach (which wasn't much) came back up.

Almost immediately, I felt Roger behind me, wrapping his arms around me, rubbing my back and wiping my face with a cool cloth. "Shh...it's okay Mark, it's okay," he crooned, as his mother came in, getting another face cloth and cleaning me up.

I moaned softly, holding my stomach. "Roger...hurts," I whispered hoarsely, my throat raw. Roger nodded, and held me up carefully, my legs were too weak to support myself.

"Come on, we'll go lay on the couch," he practically carried me into the living room, where I collapsed on the couch.

"My head hurts," I said pathetically, looking up at Roger imploringly. He climbed onto the couch beside me, pulling me into him and stroking my hair. And when I shivered, he reflexively wrapped his arms tightly around me, sharing his body heat. Carrie came over, putting a hand to my forehead.

"You feel warm hun," she murmured. "I'm going to get you some ginger ale...let's try to get your stomach to calm down first, and go from there."

I nodded, thanking her quietly. As she walked away, my stomach made a funny gurgling noise, and I couldn't help but to laugh softly. Roger chuckled too, rubbing my stomach gently.

"Mm, Roger...that feels good," I told him, not wanting him to stop. Carrie brought in some ginger ale, telling us to call her if we needed anything, before going back out to the kitchen with Jessie.

I sipped the bubbly drink slowly, holding the glass in slightly shaking hands. When I had gotten down half of the ginger ale, I put it down on the coffee table and leaned back against Roger. Turning my face upwards, I noticed that his features were furrowed, an indecisive look on his face. "What's up Rog?" I asked curiously.

He bit his lip, and my heart melted...that was really adorable when he did that. "Mark..." he started. "I...I have to tell you something."

I tilted my head. "Yeah?"

"I-I like you Mark," he said softly.

"I like you too Roger...you're my best friend," I was a bit confused. Of course we liked each other....

"No...I mean, I...I like you. A-As more than a friend," he looked down, face portraying how scared he was to hear my answer. Little did he know, my stomach was doing flips.

"Wow...um, I...wow," I was totally speechless. Never in my wildest dreams would I have believed that Roger liked me back. "I like you too," I whispered.

His face turned up, hope spreading over his features. "Really?"

I nodded, giggling boyishly. "Really really, Roger."

Roger chuckled, and blushingly kissed my cheek. I felt my eyes flutter closed for a moment, the feel of his lips on my skin was just amazing. But, still, I wanted more.

"Kiss me," I whispered. He nervously leaned over, letting his soft, warm lips fall upon mine. Oh god...wow. Roger was...absolutely brilliant. His breath caressing my cheek made me shiver, and the way he suckled my lower lip caused me to let out a small, almost whimper.

After a few moments, he pulled away, staring deeply into my eyes. My body felt like jello, I totally melted into his arms. I let out a little breath of contentment, tucking my head neatly into Roger's neck. He pulled me closer into him, holding me in his lap and kissing the crown of my head every so often.

"Oh my god! Mom Mom Mom look!" Jessie stood in the doorway, squealing, with a large grin on her face as she saw Roger kissing me. Carrie ran in, thinking something was wrong at first.

"Awwh!" The two women said together. "You two are just adorable...you're finally together?" Jessie asked.

Roger nodded, kissing my temple with a smile. I blushed, snuggling into Roger, and rested a hand over his heart. Feeling his heart beating against my hand...it was just, it made this seem so real.


	7. Chapter 7

1Chapter 8 of Will I Wake

A/N: Hey I am so so so so so so utterly sorry this has taken so long to get up, I've been in and out of the hospital since October so...yeah. But I got discharged yesterday, yay me! So here's the next chapter. Oh btw House MD makes an appearance =] don't own House or RENT

P.S. Okay even though I hate it when POVs switch, I have to do it, just this once in this chapter.

A while later, Carrie and Jessie had joined us in the living room and we were watching

TV. Roger and I were curled up with each other on the couch, his thumb caressing the sliver of

skin where my shirt rode up slightly. I leaned my cheek against his chest, feeling it rise and fall

gently. The shrill ring of the phone startled me, drowning out the empty laughter of the

television. All of us eyed it warily, knowing and yet hoping that it wasn't my father.

"We won't answer...if it's him," Carrie assured me, assuaging and yet not totally

relieving my fears.

I nodded slowly, burying my face in Roger's strong chest. It felt like it took hours for the

answering machine to pick up, but when it did, I let out an odd, frightened squeak as his voice

filled the room. I quickly untangled myself from Roger, jumping up and running upstairs.

Tears streamed down my face as I locked myself in the bathroom. I sank down against

the door when almost immediately I heard Roger knocking at the door lightly. I pulled my knees

to my chest, crying into my arms.

"Mark! Baby, let me in love," his voice was soft, gentle and sweet. I was scared though.

Hearing my father's voice...I could feel him all over again, I felt dirty...disgusting.

My fingernails raked at my skin, tearing barely healed wounds open again, dirty blood

leaking out oh so slowly. Like a blast of cold water, pain hit me hard, and not from my arms...I

was so ashamed. Pain in the most embarrassing spot...sitting hurt, my every move hurt like hell.

I moaned, once again I could feel him, feel him inside of me, ripping and tearing and it _hurt_.

Roger must have heard my cries grow more pained because he knocked more

persistently. More than anything I wanted him but I was scared for him to see me like this.

Reluctantly, I covered my arms and opened the door.

Roger instantly dropped to his knees, holding me and rocking me.

"R-Roger," I choked out, stumbling over my words. "It hurts...it hurts so bad!"

"Oh god baby...you can't keep letting him do this," Roger pet my hair softly, wrapping

himself around me.

"But I'm scared," I whispered, my body limp against his.

"I know you are sweetie," he lifted me up, setting me on the counter. He stood between

my knees, resting his forehead against mine. "I love you beautiful."

I closed my eyes lightly. Opening them when I felt a kiss pressed to my cheek, I saw

Carrie in the doorway. She walked over, taking my sweaty, clammy hand in her cool one.

"Mark...I need you to tell me if something is going on," she hesitantly looked me in the

eye.

"No, there's nothing wrong," I hastily said, eyes widening innocently. "Seriously, it's

fine, we just had...an argument last night." The lie was so hard to tell.

"Mark hon, I-" she was cut off by the doorbell ringing and Jessie yelling up to us.

"The new neighbors are here!"

Carrie sighed. "This isn't over," she informed me in a motherly tone with a pointed

finger as she left to go downstairs.

Roger squeezed me. "They called last night...they couldn't make it, sorry I didn't let you

know," he murmured in my ear.

"S'okay," I said.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he wiped the tears from my face, staring deep into

my eyes. "You look like an angel."

I blushed, which made him chuckle. "You do! You really are beautiful Mark,

it's...captivating. And that doesn't even begin to cover it."

The look on his face as he said that...I couldn't describe it.

I looked to my green eyed beauty (wow that is so amazing to be able to say) with

admiration. Oh, how I loved him...he brushed a feather light finger over my slightly parted lips,

and I swear I died right there and went to heaven. He sent me a lopsided smile, blushing faintly.

We headed downstairs, holding hands until the very last second. I didn't want to scare off

Roger's new neighbors.

As soon as we got a look at them though, both of our jaws dropped and I hurriedly

clutched Roger's hand again. Lord, give me strength....

"H-Hey Collins, Angel," I stuttered nervously. This couldn't get any worse, could it?

Collins' eyebrows flew up, and Angel giggled. "Wow, well this is quite a surprise!" he

said, obviously not knowing of the earlier conflict.

I had to hold back from groaning. Seeing that both Collins and Carrie had been

questioning me, getting them in the same room could not be a good thing.

Roger and I plopped down on the floor, because the couches were pretty crowded.

However, as soon as I sat I winced, and crawled into Roger's lap.

"Hold me....please?" I mumbled into his neck, in pain and scared and just plain

overwhelmed.

"Of course gorgeous," he whispered back, interlocking his arms around me snugly.

I completely melted, and slipped a hand under his shirt to rest on his stomach. I wanted to

feel as much of his warmth as possible, wanted to feel all of his essence, his being.

"Mom, Collins is Mark's new philosophy teacher at school," Roger explained casually.

Angel, Carrie, and Jessie were all giggling over me and Roger, and Collins was hiding a

smirk. I blushed deeply, kissing Roger's cheek soundly.

"When I first saw you two I was like 'OMG they're such a cute couple!' but I didn't want

to embarrass you guys," Angel laughed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "We just got together this afternoon..." I trailed off,

looking at Roger.

Angel's face was comical. "Woops..." she widened her eyes. "I really thought you guys

were a couple," she grinned. "Was it denial for a while?" she directed this towards Carrie and

Jessie as both Roger and I had faces redder than tomatoes.

Carrie and Jessie both nodded emphatically however. "Oh yeah. They were always like

cuddling and everything. They've known each other since they were little, and they've always

slept in the same bed, so I would go in there in the morning before work and they'd be all curled

up around each other," Roger's mother smiled lovingly in our direction.

I smiled a bit more easily, this wasn't as bad as it could have been. I looked Roger in the

eyes, pouting a bit with a smile gracing my lips.

"What is it babe?" Roger asked with a laugh. "You look so cute."

"Kiss?" I asked softly, my head bent a bit as he tilted my chin up, capturing my lips

in a truly perfect kiss. My eyes drifted closed, lazily kissing Roger.

Jessie cleared her throat loudly, throwing a pillow at us. "Look just because you guys are

cute doesn't mean I want to watch my brother making out with his boyfriend!" She smirked at

us, and Roger threw the pillow back at her. Like usual, I stuck my tongue out, making everyone

laugh.

"Why does everyone always laugh when I do that?" I asked.

"Because it's just about the cutest thing ever," Roger told me. I was seriously blushing

now, and Roger shook his head. "Scratch that. You blushing is the cutest thing ever....actually,

just you in general," he grinned.

"Stop making me blush you jerk!" I pretended to smack his chest.

Everyone was laughing at us, and Roger suddenly stilled. "Mark," he whispered in my

ear, barely audible. "I think you're bleeding, let's go upstairs, I'll walk behind you okay?"

My stomach curdled. By laughing and involving myself with Roger and everyone else, I

had just done my usual and blocked the pain out. But now that my attention was brought to it

again, it was hurting quite a bit. As quickly as possible, I got up, careful not to move from

directly in front of Roger.

"Be right back!" he said hurriedly, as we ran upstairs. Walking into the bathroom, I

turned around to look in the mirror. I was quite horrified to see blood staining my pants, and

looking over, I realized that from where I was sitting in Roger's lap it was staining his pants as

well.

My face heated badly, and I had to stop myself from sinking down onto the toilet seat in

shame, because I realized that if I sat, I would get blood on everything. So all I could do was turn

away from Roger, biting my lip and not even able to keep tears from falling. My first day as

Roger's boyfriend and this was just too embarrassing to be real. But it was, and I couldn't handle

it. I covered my face with one hand, the other arm wrapped around my stomach.

"Oh sweetie it's okay," Roger whispered, hugging me. "It's alright. No big deal, we'll

just change, I'll do a load of laundry."

I was just way too embarrassed at that point. Standing there in blood soaked

pants...how obvious was the irony in this? Everyone always said I was such a girly boy, doesn't

this happen to girls? I sighed. This really, really sucked.

Roger's brows furrowed worriedly, but he dug around in the cabinet under the sink. He

finally found what he was looking for, and handed it to me.

"Here...maybe this will help," he handed me what I realized must have been a girl's

sanitary napkin. I blushed, but took it with a mumbled thanks. Roger kissed my head before

walking out and closing the door behind him, leaving me to clean myself up. Soon enough,

Roger knocked on the door, handing around some clothes.

After I got cleaned up, I painfully put on the clean clothes and opened the door to find

Roger there, waiting. He had changed into clean clothes as well, and as soon as the door was

open I fell into his arms.

"Mark..." Roger whispered, muffled against my hair. "Are you okay? I mean...obviously

there's something physically wrong...but neither of us are doctors, how do we know that

something isn't seriously wrong? What if something happens?"

I just shrugged. I didn't know either. Sure it scared me...but what scared me even more

was the idea of someone finding out. "It hurts," I mumbled, shivering slightly despite the

warmth of the house and Roger's arms. "I don't know what to do. It hurts but I don't wanna

tell," I sniffled quietly, pushing my nose into Roger's neck.

Roger closed his eyes, sighing softly as he thought. "Well...I think that you need to be

seen by a doctor. I'm not...I'm not going to make you say anything, if you don't say who did it

they can't do anything, but something's really wrong."

My eyes widened, I was quite frightened, even though I knew Roger was right. My hands

were ice cold, which was what always happened when I was scared. Roger held them tightly,

trying to warm them up.

"You'll...you'll come with me right?" I whispered, feeling very vulnerable.

He nodded. "Yes, of course love. I'll be there for everything if you want me to, or if you

don't want me there that's fine too. I'm going to go down and tell my mom that something's

wrong, and once Collins and Angel go I'll explain just the basics. Nothing about what happened

last night, just what's going on now. Then we'll go. You can wait in my room if you want...I

know that would be kind of awkward for you," he said reassuringly, leading me into his room

before heading downstairs.

I sat on his bed, fingering his blanket. Reaching over, I grabbed his stuffed dog. We each

had one...Christmas presents from Carrie when we were little. I loved to hold his...it was so

comforting. I slept with mine every night at home that I couldn't be with Roger. I hugged it

tightly, breathing in it's scent deeply. It was then that I realized how badly I was shaking.

Within minutes, Roger came bounding back up the stairs. "Collins and Angel just left.

My mom's getting her stuff together and she's going to bring us...you wanna bring that with

you?" He asked gently, putting an arm around my waist. I nodded, not able to speak because I

was so choked up.

The dark blonde helped me up, walking me downstairs. I couldn't look at Carrie, and I

didn't say anything when she asked me if I was ready, but I could hear the extremely concerned

tone in her voice.

I didn't say a word the whole ride to the Scarsdale Hospital, I just sat there, clutching

Roger's hand and stuffed dog like a lifeline. We all walked into the emergency room, Carrie

going up to the desk and giving the information. She worked here, so the fact that she knew the

people sped up the waiting process, and within 10 minutes we were out of the waiting room and

I was seated on a

stretcher. My whole body was racked with tremors at this point, I was scared to hold my hand

out and see just how badly it was shaking.

Roger cautiously asked Carrie if it was okay if just he stayed with me, and she hesitantly

went to the waiting room. A nurse came in, armed with papers and forms to fill out.

"Hello," she said in a gentle voice. "My name is Kelly, I'm going to be your nurse here

in the ER. Your name is Mark Cohen?" She checked with me, and I nodded.

"14 years old?"

Again, I nodded. I hadn't spoken since upstairs in Roger's bathroom.

"Sweetie can you talk at all?" She put the papers down, placing a soft hand on my

forearm. I flinched back, eyes wide. She retracted her hand, looking concerned. I shook my head

quickly.

Roger spoke up. "He can...he's just scared right now, I can answer questions for him

though," he explained.

Kelly nodded. "Okay. So what's going on today?" She looked between me and Roger,

and my face heated.

"Um...he's...he's bleeding," Roger said awkwardly.

Kelly bit her lip. "From where hun?"

I was filled with anxiety. I jumped up, turning to Roger. "I..I have to go to the

bathroom," my heart was pounding. I ran out of the room, finding a bathroom just around the

corner and shutting myself in there. I was breathing too quickly, and I went to splash cold water

on my face.

After quite a few minutes, I nervously went back out to my room. I was scared I was

going to be in trouble, but Roger got up and hugged me. "It's okay," he whispered in my ear. "I

already told her, it's all set now baby," he soothed me.

I looked to Kelly, my mouth slightly open, fear evident on my face. I climbed back onto

the stretcher, pulling on Roger's hand to join me. I don't know why, but my voice was just gone.

I didn't want to talk for fear of letting something slip.

The nurse smiled comfortingly at me. "I'm going to let the doctor know, and they'll be in

shortly," she said gently before leaving the room.

I weakly laid down, drained. Roger leaned on his elbow, stroking my face. "You look so

tiny and pale against the bed sheets," he said softly, and I wrapped my arms around his torso.

"I want you," I whispered, clutching his shirt in my fists.

"I'm here baby, I've got you," he soothed me, resting his head down, nose inches from

mine.

"But I want you so bad, I can't explain it I just...I'm scared. What if they find out? He'll

be so mad Roger..." I was terrified, I couldn't imagine what would happen if he found out I told.

"He won't...he won't be able to do anything, I promise, I'll protect you, no matter what.

Forever, my love," he kissed my cheek.

I opened my mouth to reply, but a female doctor strode into the room. She was average

height, chestnut colored hair and soft hazel eyes.

"Hello boys, I'm Dr. Cameron, an attending doctor. Your head doctor, Dr. House, is a bit

_busy_ at the moment," she stressed the word 'busy', looking annoyed. "So I will be taking care of

you for now."

I nodded, timidly looking her over and studying her demeanor. She seemed nice. I

shivered, pressing myself against Roger.

"I'm Roger...Mark's boyfriend," Roger explained softly, holding me in his arms.

"Um...Mark's kind of really nervous, could you please tell us what exactly is going to happen?"

"Of course," Dr Cameron smiled warmly. "First off, even though we got the basics from

the nurse, we're going to talk a bit, I'm going to ask some questions. We'll do a physical exam,

see what needs to be done, if anything, for treatment, and then talk some more. You can ask me

questions at any time, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask, okay Mark?"

I nodded, a bit relieved. Still beyond nervous, but it was better now that I knew the

protocol. I sat up, leaning weakly against Roger. Despite my nap earlier with Roger, I was

quite tired. When I shivered, Roger wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug.

"Okay...first question. Do you have any idea at all why this might be happening?" She

asked softly. She smiled reassuringly.

I looked away, shaking my head quickly. Roger held me to his side, his arm settled on

my waist.

Dr Cameron jotted something down on a notepad, looking back up at me. "Has this ever

happened before?"

Once again, I shook my head. I scrunched up a bit of Roger's shirt in my fist, gripping so

tightly that my knuckles were turning white.

Dr. Cameron studied me, my face and my actions. She wore a curious look, and hopped

up on the counter. "Hey Mark, I know you're kind of scared, but can you try to talk to me a little

bit? We can take as long as you need...I just want to make sure I can help you," she said in a

gentle voice, a thin lipped smile still on her face.

"O-Okay," I stuttered very softly. Drawing in a shaky breath, I braced myself for more

questions.

"Thank you Mark," her smile widened, and she tapped her pen against her teeth. Tucking

a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, she nudged her glasses up higher. "Are you experiencing

pain in the area?"

I responded with a meek "Yes."

"And Mark...have you ever been physically or sexually abused?"

My head shot up. "I...no."

Roger rubbed my back softly, kissing my cheek. I curled my body into his, trembling

fiercely.

Dr. Cameron took note of my behavior before standing, smiling reassuringly. "Okay

Mark...I'm just going to take a look, okay? I'll be as quick as possible, I promise. Uhm...did you

want to do this yourself? Or do you want Roger to stay?"

I tightened my grip on my boyfriend. "I want Roger..." I whispered.

Nodding, she pulled the bed out from the wall a bit and motioned Roger to the opposite

side as she donned a pair of rubber gloves. "Okay, so what we're going to do is have you face

Roger, and bring your knees up to your chest...good."

I awkwardly pulled my pants down a bit, completely mortified. Biting my lip to keep

from crying, I squeezed my eyes closed, my breathing ragged.

Roger was kneeling beside the stretcher, and he leaned his forehead against mine,

pressing against my lips with his own soft warm ones. I opened my tear filled eyes to peer into

Roger's deep green orbs.

"Roger..." I gasped, whimpering softly in pain and fear.

"I'm here...I've got you sweetheart," he whispered, stroking my hair. "I've got you...."

Dr Cameron quickly finished, turning to give me a moment of privacy. I scrambled to

situate myself, and climbed into Roger's lap, burying my face in his neck as she turned back

around.

Roger held onto my sides gently, yet protectively, and I felt a wet, hot tear drip into my

hair. I hated the fact that I started sobbing into Roger's neck. It was all over. I could hardly

breathe, I was crying just so hard...but boys don't cry. Why the hell do I have to cry so much?

Boys aren't supposed to cry! Boys aren't supposed to have _this_ happen to them either...

Dr Cameron slowly and silently washed her hands, taking her time to put together her

papers. Before she spoke, she hesitated a moment. "Roger...your mom is out in the waiting room

right? I need her to come in for the um...diagnosis."

Roger cautiously nodded, and I froze. Oh no.

She sighed softly. "Okay. I have to go talk to my boss, because since he is the main

doctor...he needs to be in here for the diagnosis as well. Then I'm going to get your mom, and

we'll go from there."

As she left the room, I looked to Roger with an expression of dread.

Oh. Shit.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 of will I wake

A/N: don't own house, rent or celine dion's 'fly'. Keep a look out for the oneshot that goes along with this chapter, I would post it now but I am in a hotel room and don't have it with me =]

When Carrie entered the room, she rushed over to me. "Mark sweetie, are you okay?" Her tone conveyed concern, and she placed a hand on my arm. I nodded silently, afraid that if I spoke even a word I would cry, and just start bawling and sobbing. She sat in a chair in the corner, nervously drumming her fingers on her leg.

I was lying on top of Roger, my head on his chest as he sat up against the wall. His arms cradled me, easing a bit of the tremors coursing my body. My teeth chattered anxiously, and my grip on Roger was desperate. I wanted to be away from here, anywhere but here, so badly. This feeling intensified as the door was slammed open, an older man with a cane limping angrily into the room.

Dr Cameron rushed after him, furiously grabbing his arm. "Don't you _dare_," she muttered under her breath. He just gave a small, sarcastic smirk.

"Why, Alison, I would never," he was obviously not very good at faking sincerity.

I cringed back, pressing myself against Roger. I trembled, gripping his arms around me. The crippled doctor turned on his heel to look at me, a barely suppressed grin on his face.

"So you're the little gay kid with the bleeding problem," he bluntly stated.

I fearfully looked to Roger, who tightened his hold on me, glaring at the doctor.

While I was still turned to look at Roger though, the doctor jumped at me, giving a loud yell. I jumped about a foot, cowering against Roger, tears finally breaking their barrier and streaming down my face.

"House!" Dr. Cameron yelled, looking scandalized. She quickly and gently approached me, standing in between me and the doctor. "Just make the diagnosis and get out!" she said firmly.

"My, my, is it that time of the month again?" he smirked defiantly, apparently proud of his little joke. No one else seemed to find it funny, however.

I involuntarily let out a tiny whimper, burying my face in Roger's chest. This guy terrified me.

"You all are just a bunch of sticks in the mud today, huh?" he rolled his eyes and popped a couple pills into his mouth. I had a feeling that I didn't want to know what those were. "Before I came in here there were two possible diagnoses. Number one, on account of the whole 'I like guys!' thing, it could have been that he is a fan of overly rough sex." God, this guy couldn't get any blunter, could he? "The second diagnosis," he paused, with absolutely no compassion in his voice, "is that he has been raped. The test I did when I came in here has confirmed the second diagnosis."

It sickened me how he said this so plainly, he even seemed proud of himself for joking about that stuff. I really didn't give a crap though. Carrie's face held a look of shock; apparently this confirmed something she had not wanted to believe was true.

"Okay I'm out of here, you interrupted my nap," he looked at Dr. Cameron, as if his nap was more important than patients.

She shooed him out. "Good_bye_, House," she shut the door after him. Turning back to us, she had a truly apologetic look on her face. "I really am sorry about him…he doesn't have many…social skills," she said, trying to find the right (and appropriate) words.

I didn't respond; I couldn't. Just like that, my secret was out. Well, not fully. They still didn't know who it was, though I'm sure Carrie was suspicious. They couldn't force me to admit it though, and I knew I would do whatever possible to keep this secret. I interlocked my fingers in Roger's, scooting farther into his lap. I could feel him rest his lips on my head, and I closed my eyes, sighing gently.

"Mark," Dr. Cameron hesitated a moment, jumping up to sit on the counter again. "I need you to tell me who did this."

I turned my face away, lips sewed shut. I wasn't going to say, they couldn't make me.

The auburn haired doctor looked over me, scrutinizing me, and pursed her lips for a moment. "I'm sorry, Carrie, Roger, I'm going to need you to step outside the room for just a moment, okay?"

Carrie nodded, reaching for her son. I widened my eyes, looking to Roger. No…I didn't want Roger to leave…

Roger carefully got up, holding me in his arms for a second, before setting me back on the bed and giving me a soft kiss. "I love you," he whispered, holding my hand till the last second as he left the room.

I clenched my jaw, shivering now that Roger's warmth had left me. I brought my knees to my chin, hugging my legs tightly. Dr. Cameron brought one knee up to her chin, speaking softly and calmly.

"Mark I know you're scared right now," she said softly.

'No you don't' I thought to myself.

"I really do. I went through this when I was about your age; I remember how hard it was. You can talk to me, its okay."

Oh.

"Now the reason I had to ask Roger and Carrie to step out was because I really wasn't sure if they were the reason you weren't talking. You seem pretty close, but I just need to be sure, before I bring them back in. Was it Roger?" She looked over me and my reaction to the question.

I shook my head immediately. "No, Roger wouldn't do that. He's really sweet…he's my best friend; we've known each other since kindergarten. He wouldn't push anything on me, ever. He says that we're going to go at my pace, all the time."

"Okay hun, I just had to check. Do you want them back in for the rest of this?"

I bit my lip, nodding. I really wanted to feel Roger's arms around me right now.

She opened the door, allowing them to reenter. They went back to their previous positions, Roger picking me up so he could put me on his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Alright, sorry about that. Now, Mark, will you tell me who it was?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to," I whispered.

"Can you answer some 'yes' or 'no' questions for me, then?" she asked unsurely.

"Um…maybe," I said softly.

"Was it someone you know?"

I pressed my lips together. "I don't wanna answer that one," I shyly told her.

She sighed. "Was it an adult?"

Hesitating a moment, I nodded. She marked it down in the chart, and Carrie pressed a tissue to her eyes discreetly.

Closing my eyes, I warily rested my forehead against Roger's cheek.

"Has it happened more than once?" she glanced up at me, awaiting my answer.

"Um…I'm not sure how to…um, kind of?" I stuttered. Did the other stuff count? I didn't know.

"So it was a lesser degree before?" To this I nodded. "There's some stuff that's still considered…rape…" she slightly winced at the word. "Um…was there any other um, penetration before this? Of anywhere else?"

I took in a sharp breath. It was hard to hear it like this. "I…uh, yeah…"

Roger stroked my cheek, kissing my head. "I've got you baby…it's okay," he murmured to me.

"Orally?"

I nodded, feeling that nasty taste in my mouth, though it wasn't really there. God, now I wanted to brush my teeth so badly…ew ew ew. I hate that…I felt like gagging at that moment.

"How long has this been going on Mark?" She tapped her pen against her teeth, contemplating the information I had already given her.

"Um…I don't know…" I mumbled. Truth be told, I don't remember when it wasn't happening. "A long time."

"Okay…let's see. Hmm…Carrie, can I talk to you for a minute outside?"

Roger's mom nodded, following the doctor and wiping at her eyes again, trying to hide it from Roger and me.

I let loose a small, quiet sob, hiding in Roger's embrace. "Roger…Roger I…" I choked up. The urge to cut was unbearable, I needed it so badly.

"What is it baby? Talk to me…Mark sweetie, what can I do for you?" He cuddled me, coddling me.

"Just…I, I…please, don't let go," I pleaded. "I'm scared…I'm really scared Roger…"

Roger surrounded me, folding himself around me. "I won't love…I promise you that."

I held onto his arms, guiding his hand to my stomach. For some reason it just felt even better, to have him holding me like that.

Dr. Cameron and Carrie walked back in minutes later, Carrie leaning over to kiss my forehead.

"Mark…this is a very important question." The doctor stopped for a minute, letting that sink in. "Did your father do this?"

My heart skipped a beat…or five. My breathing got shallow. "He's my father, why would he do that?" I said in a low voice, trying to seem clueless. Hey, I didn't lie, she asked if he did. I didn't say 'no.'

"Well…some fathers have problems, and they do things they shouldn't, they do things that are wrong," she explained. "We can help you Mark, we can protect you if you need it. Just say the word and he will never come near you again."

I shook my head. "No. He's…he didn't." I spat out, lying through my teeth.

Roger murmured in my ear so only I could hear. "Mark baby please..."

"I said he didn't!" I burst out. I shook my head repeatedly, my eyes wild.

Dr. Cameron glanced at Carrie. Troubled, she addressed her. "If he doesn't admit it there's not much we can do besides sending in DCYF to investigate. That's really the only option at this point."

Carrie nodded at this, and my heart sank. No…this was really not good. Seriously…I was going to get in so much trouble.

"But…I said it wasn't true, so why do you have to call DCYF?" My voice sounded meek even to me.

"I'm sorry Mark, I hate to say it but it's pretty hard to believe you right now. We just want you to be safe because no one deserves that, especially you. You seem like a really good kid," her face was apologetic, writing in the chart again.

Oh yeah. Real great kid. Yeah. She obviously can't see the real me. I turned my face away, cheeks turning red. If only she knew how often I had to be punished for being bad, she would never have said that. Crap my dad was going to kill me for this. I looked up at Roger, a pleading look in my eyes.

"I'm sorry baby," he murmured, caressing my stomach, nuzzling against my cheek.

"Can I just go home with Roger and Carrie now then?" I asked, defeated.

Dr Cameron nodded sympathetically. "Yes, of course. Now there's really not much we can do to make this heal faster, besides keeping you as comfortable. Keep the stress as minimal as possible, don't do anything too strenuous. If you need pain medication, don't use anything with aspirin, it will make you bleed more. If it gets worse or the pain gets out of control, come right back okay?"

I nodded, slipping off of Roger's lap and standing up tiredly. It was about midnight right now. Roger and Carrie also stood, with Carrie signing a couple papers.

"Good luck Mark," the doctor said softly, resting a gentle hand on my arm. "I hope everything works out okay for you."

"Thanks," I mumbled abashedly. We walked out of the emergency room, over to Carrie's car. I kept myself curled against Roger's side, clutching him tightly.

……………………………

When we walked into the house, Jessie was curled up on the couch in pajamas with her hair in a messy bun, watching television. She leapt up, all traces of exhaustion erased, and came over to hug me. She pulled back, looking me over. "You gonna be okay little brother?"

I nodded weakly, yawning. Just as she considered me her second little brother, I considered her my second older sister. Hell, she was more of a sister to me than my own.

Carrie quickly hustled us up the stairs, telling us to get to bed. "Mark, Roger, I'm going to let you stay home from school tomorrow, it's been a very long day. The only problem is, I'm working first shift tomorrow, I won't be home until about four. I'm just not sure that I should leave you without an adult Mark, in case something happens. Now that Mrs. Fitzgerald is gone…well, I don't know if this would be okay with you, but Angel seemed nice. He said he was in between jobs…would you mind if I called in the morning and asked him to stay with you? If not I can get someone to cover my shift for me."

I nodded. "Yeah that's fine with me," I said, looking to Roger who agreed. Angel seemed incredibly nice, and fun too.

"Okay, thanks boys. Now, get into bed, it's late and you both have dark circles under your eyes," she shooed us into the room, closing the door and leaving us to get changed.

I pulled out some of Roger's pajamas for myself, like always. I slipped out of my sweatpants and into the plaid lounge pants, blushing as I tried to keep my eyes off of Roger as he changed. He was so…gah, he was hot. I quickly changed my shirt, and as soon as it was settled over me, Roger wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his lips to my shoulder. I closed my eyes, leaning back against him, the tension melting from my shoulders. What helped even more was when he started rubbing my shoulders.

"Mmmmm…oh god…Roger that feels `mazing," I mumbled incoherently.

He chuckled, pulling me over to the bed. "Come on babe, let's go to bed."

I climbed in between him and the wall, resting my head over his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart. Carrie knocked and came in, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Mark sweetie…I'm here, you know, if you need to talk. I promise, anything you need. I'm very proud of you; you were quite brave tonight." She rubbed my arm gently, kissing my forehead. "Come get me tonight if you need anything at all, I mean it."

"M`kay," I murmured, my eyes half lidded. She gave us both one more kiss, and left the room, shutting off the light and whispering a goodnight.

I snuggled up to Roger, kissing his chest. "Roger I love you," I told him, slipping a hand under his shirt.

"I love you too my baby," he whispered, petting my hair. The soft glow of the moonlight shone over Roger, making him look beyond beautiful.

((there will be a oneshot as an add-in to the story describing Mark's nightmare and the aftermath of it))

"Roger! Mark! Angel's here!"

I blearily opened my eyes, moaning softly. I wasn't the least bit embarrassed about our positions when we woke up; after all, we had woken up like this many times, even before we were a couple. Plus, it was quite comfy. Our legs were completely tangled up, his thigh between my legs, the same with mine between his. I loved this part of waking up, being closer than close with Roger.

I closed my eyes again, feeling like I had just gone to sleep. I hadn't really slept all that much, between going to bed so late and then being awake from that nightmare.

Roger slid out from under me, stretching. "Babe?" he asked softly. "C'mon, I've got you," he murmured, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs easily around his waist, arms around his neck, and put my face in the crook of his neck as he carried me down the stairs.

When we reached the bottom, I heard Carrie's and Angel's voices. "Oh, hey you two. Sleep well?" She asked quickly, grabbing her pocketbook. At Roger's answer of a nod (which was kind of a lie…whoops) she continued. "Jessie already left for her college classes, she'll be getting back about the same time as me, she has a long day today. I love you two, be good for Angel!" she said over her shoulder as she walked out the door in a hurry.

Roger set me down, so I was standing beside him. I looked up at Angel, who smiled gently at me. "Hey," he smiled. "You feeling okay Mark?"

I shyly nodded. "I'm better now," I softly said. I wasn't very talkative around new people, however nice they were. "Thanks…for coming over and everything…" I felt awkward.

"No problemo chico, I was just going to bored today anyway," he shrugged, giggling. "Do you guys want breakfast? I can make you something if you want."

Roger shrugged. "That sounds good, I could eat. What about you Mark?"

I scoffed jokingly. "You could always eat Rog…I'm uh, not really hungry."

"Babe you've got to eat something…supper last night technically didn't count. We didn't eat lunch. And it's safe to assume that you didn't eat breakfast either," he pointed out.

Grumbling, I looked down. "My stomach hurts though, I don't want to get sick again," I turned my gaze to him, a pleading look in my eyes. I knew if I ate I would feel worse. Plus…I don't like the way I look. I'm like…fat. I don't like it. Roger says I'm not, but my dad manages to easily point it out constantly.

"You don't have to eat a lot love, just eat something small, for me?" he gave me the puppy dog eyes, and I threw my hands up in the air.

"C'mon chico, I'll make you something bland," Angel gave me a reassuring smile and led us into the kitchen.

As we walked into the kitchen, Roger gently grabbed my waist from behind, kissing my neck. "You're so gorgeous baby," he whispered against my pale skin.

I shivered, turning my face away and blushing. I held back the urge to deny it, even though I knew it wasn't true.

"You're the hot one," I murmured, pecking him a quick kiss.

A few minutes later, all three of us were sitting at the kitchen table, bowls of oatmeal in front of us. I usually hated oatmeal but I had to admit, this was really good. I finished my bowl and stood, setting it in the sink to soak.

"I uh, I have to…go to the bathroom. I'll be right back," I said awkwardly, dashing up the stairs. I closed the bathroom door behind me, and did the one thing I thought I had put behind me.

I stuck my finger down my throat and gagged. I repeated this action, getting the hang of it again, until everything I had just consumed came back up, except this time it was on purpose.

I thought I was over this. Not even Roger knew, but in seventh and eighth grade, my father's words would get to me, and I would go through periods of really horrible self image, as health class called it. I did this, the throwing up, the food restriction, the severe dieting, exercising to the point of exhaustion on and off. I thought it was getting better.

Wiping my mouth on a piece of toilet paper, I breathed heavily, standing and flushing the toilet. I gargled with Roger's mouthwash for a good two minutes, washing my hands and face thoroughly to rid myself of the smell of puke, though I knew eventually it would become harder and harder to get rid of.

I trailed down the stairs, and seeing Roger and Angel finishing up the dishes, I silently berated myself. I should have been down here to do the dishes. I mean…I knew this wasn't my dad's house, but still. Sitting on the couch, I pulled the blanket from last night over myself, tucking myself into a little ball.

"Hi beautiful," Roger said with a smile, bringing Angel over. We all sat on the couches, and I laid down, my head on Roger's thigh.

"No m`not," I mumbled. "You're a comfy pillow Rog."

He chuckled. "Yes, you are. Why thank you," he leaned over to kiss me, and rubbed my side absentmindedly.

"You guys remind me of Tommy and me when we were younger," Angel had a soft smile, as if he was reminiscing.

I propped my chin up on Roger's thigh, and looked at Angel. "Really? When did you get together? How did it happen?"

"Oh…we were both about your age. We had been friends for a while, but I have to admit…I had the biggest crush on him for quite some time," Angel giggled, raising a hand to her lips. "We were just hanging out one day…well, not just hanging out. I…I was crying, a lot, and Collins was kind of…comforting me. Something had happened that had me pretty upset. So he was hugging me really tight, and I felt him crying to. I didn't know why and when I asked, he said that he just really hated that it had happened to me. Then I just…felt something in my stomach. Like something tingly. And I kissed him…and surprisingly, he kissed me back," Angel looked in a way happy, but also as if she was remembering the event that had caused the happy moment.

Roger and I were silent the whole time he was talking, soaking it in.

"Sounds kind of familiar, huh Rog?" I said softly, petting his thigh. Remembering yesterday afternoon made me look up at him, and I took his hand, kissing it lightly.

Roger nodded pensively. He stroked my hair, smiling at Angel. "That's almost ironic…how it happened so similarly. What happened to make you so upset, if you don't mind me asking?" Roger hesitantly questioned.

Angel bit his lip, looking a bit nervous. "Well…um, my family…had never been the most stable family…"he began, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. I looked sharply to Roger, wondering if he thought this was going where I thought it was going. "You see, my dad…he did some pretty bad stuff. I um, I guess my…sexuality was kind of obvious, and my dad didn't like that. He would try to…I guess beat it out of me. Then one night he told me he was going to turn me straight. He was so completely drunk. He decided that…showing me what homosexuals did would turn me off to it. He…he raped me," Angel looked down, but then gave a dry laugh. "Guess it didn't work, huh?"

I was stunned, and by the looks of it, so was Roger. I clung to my beau, watching Angel closely. It seemed we had a lot in common…wow. I couldn't believe someone would do something like that to someone like Angel; he was just so…nice. I was speechless.

Angel looked down. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be putting all my burdens on you guys," he said softly.

"No! No, it's okay," I said quickly. "It's good to know…I mean…it's just kind of, nice to know that there's someone else out there who wasn't happy with what their family was like."

Roger looked to me in surprise, wondering if I was about to confess.

Angel raised his eyebrows. "Mark…honey are you saying that…did your father do those things? I have the understanding that you still live with him…."

I quickly shook my head, "No, No! He's just…he gets drunk a lot. He yells a lot. It's okay though, it's just frustrating sometimes."

Roger pulled me up to lay against him, lightly caressing my stomach. "You can tell you know…he knows what it's like, he'd be a good person to tell," he whispered very softly, so Angel wouldn't hear.

I sighed. Leaning over, I whispered in his ear. "I know…I want to. I'm scared though. I really want to, but I can't."

"I'll be here if you do," he assured me, kissing my ear, which made me shiver.

I gulped, debating this. Was I really going to do it? "Angel I…have to tell you something," my heart was pounding.

"Yes Mark?" Angel leaned forward, looking concerned.

"I…never mind," I said, shaking my head. "It wasn't important anyway."

"If you're sure…I'm here though, to talk, if you ever need to," He reached out, resting his hand on top of mine very gently. "If its family stuff, boyfriend questions, anything," he grinned when he mentioned 'boyfriend questions'.

I managed a small laugh. "Okay…thanks," I said softly. My arms itched; I needed my blade so bad. But I would try not to, for Roger. I scratched at my forearms, wincing as the fabric of my shirt caught a scab. I really wanted to tell. But my father…even when he wasn't around, he kept me so afraid. But I was okay. Right? I'm alive, I'm breathing (barely).

Roger locked his arms around my belly, nuzzling my cheek. I captured his lips in mine, licking at his lips softly before pulling away.

"Too cute!" Angel giggled.

I smiled bashfully, hugging Roger's arms around me. He tightened his grip, and I relaxed a little bit. Pain didn't matter when he was holding me. The tighter he held me, the safer I felt.

Hours later, I was lying on the floor with Roger curled up next to me, the both of us napping while Angel read a magazine. I was still exhausted from the night before. I was startled by the doorbell, and I bit my lip worriedly. I didn't know who that could be.

Angel furrowed his eyebrows, going to the door. "Can I help you?"

An official looking blonde, looking to be in her early forties, held a briefcase. "Hello, my name is Dawn Aaronson and I am from DCYF's investigation section. Is Mark Cohen here?"

My eyes widened. Shit. I cautiously got up, Roger right behind me. "That's me," I said shyly.

"I am here to talk to you Mark, about the suspicions that have been arising. We have had two separate reports of suspicion in one day, so this is serious," she said in a blunt tone. She didn't seem to really care at all.

I backed up into Roger's chest, feeling his arms hold me, encasing my in a very tight hug. "Roger…." I whispered, terrified. "Roger I want you…Please Roger don't make me…"

"I'm so sorry baby, I don't have a choice," He murmured, kissing my temple. "I'm here for you babe." His voice was worried, his touch concerned.

"I need to talk to Mark alone, I need you both to go upstairs behind closed doors," she demanded, marching right into the kitchen, placing her briefcase on the table. "Mark!"

I couldn't breathe, I was so scared. "No I want you," I looked up at Roger, tears in my eyes.

"Is there any possibility I could stay with him? I won't speak at all," Roger said desperately.

"I said I have to speak to Mark and Mark alone."

I already hated this lady. I held Roger's hand as he walked away, our fingertips slipping farther apart until I had no choice but to let go.

Angel looked at me. "Good luck," he murmured.

And just like that, they were gone. I walked into the kitchen with dread weighting down my stomach, dropping into a chair.

"Mark there has been two different reports of suspicion of child abuse-one for sexual abuse, one unspecified-within one day. We take that very seriously. Now I need to know, are these true, or have you been giving false information and/or trying to get attention by acting like you've been hurt?" She looked up uncaringly, looking bored.

I sputtered. "What the hell? Look, I've told people, this stuff isn't true. But no, I have not been trying to 'get attention'. Seriously, I'd very much like to get the attention _off_ of me right now." This lady was pissing me off!

She rolled her eyes and snapped a piece of gum. "Has your father ever hurt you?"

I shook my head. "I've already gone through this stuff, okay? He hasn't hurt me, he hasn't touched me, and he sure as hell never would. And even if he did, its not like I would tell you," I murmured the last part under my breath.

"Excuse me?" She raised her eyebrows, marking everything down in the chart. "Sounds like you might be lying then."

Ah crap. I think she heard me. I have to get control of my big, fat mouth!

"I'm not. I swear to god I'm not." Too bad she doesn't know I gave up religion a long time ago.

She shook her head slightly. "Okay, then I'm done here." She closed her briefcase, walking to the door. "Have a nice day."

I gave quite a fake smile. "Oh I will…" as soon as she shut the door I finished. "Not."

I went to the bottom of the stairs. "She's gone!" I called out.

As Angel and Roger came back down, I found myself even more tired than before. I let myself fall into Roger's arms, burying my face in his neck.

"I've got you babyboy," he whispered, placing his hands under the top most part of my thighs and lifting me up. "I've got you."

Tears came to my eyes, and I had to choke back a sob. "It hurts Roger," I whispered. I wasn't even just talking about the physical pain anymore, even though I was incredibly sore. Gah my butt hurts, it sucks! But I was really hurting, inside. I felt mentally exhausted.

"Mark sweetie what was that about?" Angel sat down, and Roger followed. I straddled Roger's lap, facing him.

"It was nothing…it's just, people sometimes think that something's wrong because of, you know, him having drinking problems and all that. I guess I'm just kind of a screwed up kid, I have 'problems'," I rolled my eyes, using finger quotes.

"You're not a screw up honey," Angel said. "You're a great kid, I'm glad I got to spend time with the both of you today."

I shook my head softly, disbelievingly. "I don't know…I liked today too. It was a lot better than I thought it would be."

Angel gave me a sympathetic smile. He patted my knee gently.

I looked down at his hand and let a grin come to my face. "I love your nail polish," I told him, looking at the sparkly blue polish.

"Thank you!" he giggled. "I always wear it, its like an addiction, I swear…I have it with me right now actually!"

"It's really cool…oh really? Um…" I hesitated a moment, but then looked at him hopefully. "Could I maybe try it?" I asked shyly.

"Oh, of course!" Angel beamed.

Roger laughed, hugging me tightly. "You're so cute Marky," he whispered, kissing my cheek.

Angel took the nail polish out, reaching for my left hand first. He gently brushed the paint on smoothly on each fingernail, then did the same to the other hand. It made me shiver, it was a funny feeling. I liked it though, it looked awesome.

"I love it!" I exclaimed, grinning as the paint dried.

Angel gave a laugh. "I'm glad…the color brings out your eyes," the almost feminine man said.

Roger nudged my cheek with his nose. "It does, beautiful."

I blushed. I leaned up to kiss him, trailing my newly painted nails over his cheek. I turned my face to the door as it unlocked and opened, seeing Carrie walk in.

"Hey guys!" She said, looking to all three of us. Walking over, she kissed me and Roger, giving me a long hug. "You okay baby? The woman, Dawn, said she was coming to talk to you."

"Yeah…she did," I murmured, grateful for the hug. Carrie was like a mother to me. "I…I'm okay."

She hesitantly smiled. "Good. We'll talk later okay?" At my nod she turned to Angel. "Thank you so much dear, you don't realize how helpful that was."

"Oh it was absolutely no problem Mrs. Davis, anytime you need someone to come over just let me know," Angel smiled, hugging Carrie.

"Call me Carrie, won't you? Would you like to call Tom and we can have the two of you for dinner?" She spoke easily; the two seemed to get along well.

"That would be wonderful Carrie, thank you," Angel beamed, "I'll just run over to the house and get Tommy, he might still be winding down from work."

Carrie nodded. "Okay hun, we'll see you soon then?"

"Yup!" Angel waved on his way out the door.

Carrie sat down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "Oh boy, its been a long day," she said tiredly. "I had a meeting with Dawn today, Mark. We talked for a bit. How was it when she saw you, did everything go okay?"

I lowered my gaze. "Um…it was….okay."

Roger raised his eyebrows. I sighed. "Okay…I guess it wasn't. She was really mean."

Carrie looked unsurprised. "That's what I thought too."

"She said I was looking for attention," I said softly. Well…maybe I was…I don't know, maybe this stuff wasn't as bad as I thought; maybe I was over exaggerating it. It could be worse, right?

"Mark love, you're not looking for attention, you know that right?" Roger looked down at me, kissing my head.

I averted my gaze, unable to answer him.

"Mark…honey," Carrie hesitated. "What exactly did you tell her?"

I bit my lip, avoiding answering for a moment. "I said…that it wasn't true…"

"Oh Mark, why?" She placed a hand on my arm.

"Because…because its not true," I whispered, even though that was a lie. I hated lying to Carrie and Roger both.

Roger rocked me slightly, kissing my lips. I reveled in the feel of his lips, warm and moist and soft against mine, his taste so perfect it made me melt.

Carrie sighed. "I have to say that I really can't believe you Mark. I'm sorry…but I can't. You are always hurt, and the obvious intent in it…its horrible, really. And…you won't say who raped you. It happened in between the time that you left here, and the time you met up with Roger at school. Roger's been with you ever since. You were with your dad that whole entire time Mark."

I closed my eyes, a tear slipping out of my eyes. "He didn't," I whispered. "Can we please…I'm sorry but can we please not talk about this right now? Angel and Collins should be here any minute now."

"Alright," she said unwillingly. "How's your pain right now?"

"It's…okay," I said. Roger shook his head at me, telling me to tell the truth. "Well…it kind of hurts a lot."

"I'm going to get you some pain medication then," she got up, heading to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen.

I slid down a bit in Roger's lap, resting my hand on his chest and my head right next to it, yawning quietly.

"Do you know how adorable you are when you yawn?" Roger asked, rubbing my hip.

"Do you know how bad you make me blush?" I shot back, grinning up at him. I loved his little touches, his caresses. It was very calming.

Carrie laughed as she listened to us. She brought over a glass of water and two pills, which I quickly downed.

"What Mom? It's true, he's so cute!" He kissed the top of my head. "He looks like a tired little puppy."

I giggled, looking up to him. "Woof!" I mischievously grinned, and licked his cheek.

Roger scrunched up his nose in a laugh, and started petting my head. "Good boy, good boy!"

I leaned into his hand, and started purring, trying not to laugh.

"I thought you were a puppy!" Roger was laughing uncontrollably, and Carrie was trying to hold back her laughter as she watched us.

"Well now I'm a kitty!" I rubbed up against him, purring again. I pawed at his chest, licking him again. "Yummy."

Roger grabbed me in a hug, and laid me down on my back on the couch. He placed my legs over his lap and proceeded to rub my belly, cooing at me as if I really was a puppy or a kitty.

I closed my eyes, in bliss, my lips slightly parted. While my eyes were still closed and lips still parted, I felt Roger's lips, slowly and lovingly pressing against mine, resting there for a moment. I savored Roger's kiss, so much so that I didn't notice the voices outside the door until it opened to reveal Jessie, just coming in from school, leading Collins and Angel in.

I was disappointed when Roger pulled back from the kiss, and I sat up, smiling shyly. Angel giggled at us, waggling her eyebrows, which made me blush. I grinned up at Angel, a flush on my cheeks from the lovely kiss. I pecked Roger another small kiss, and quietly purred in his ear.

"Mark my little kittycat," Roger scooped me into his lap again, gesturing Angel and Collins to sit next to us.

"Meow," I giggled, happy just to sit on Roger's lap.

"So somewhere in between the time I left and now, Mark has turned into a _gato_?" Angel laughed.

"First a puppy. Now I'm a…I'm a cat-dog!" I burst out, looking up at Roger who gazed adoringly at me.

Okay, so I admit I was acting a bit foolish. But it's these little stupid moments, acting like a child that kept me going. I never got to act like a child when I was one, so now that I'm older, it just…it makes me feel good, and Roger plays along as well. He knows it helps me. When we were both little, the only times I would get to play was when I was with him, and I actually didn't know how to. He was the one that taught me to be like this. I act like a child because I never really was one.

Collins chuckled. "Missed you today Mark," he said softly. His eyes held an apologetic look; I think he realized that he upset me a lot. But…I guess he didn't really have a choice. He just wanted me to be safe.

I half smiled. "Yeah it was weird to stay home from school. It was cool though, Angel made it awesome," I brightened, turning to Angel. "I still can't get over how good my nails look!"

"_Gracias, miel,_" Angel smiled at me.

"_De nada_," I replied. Two years of Spanish classes have paid off so far.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish!" Angel exclaimed.

"Not much," I countered. "I've been in Spanish classes for two years now. I can hold basic conversations but that's about it."

"Talk to me in Spanish," he crossed his legs, eyes bright.

"Umm…_Roger es mi novio. Se muy delicioso!" _I giggled, kissing Roger's cheek.

"What did you say about me?" he asked mischievously, tickling my belly. I wiggled in his lap, my eyes sparkling.

"Nothing," I drew the word out, teasing him.

He started tickling me harder, almost mercilessly. "Tell me!" He grinned viciously.

Neither of us paid attention to the others, stuck in the moment. I leapt off of his lap, scooting around the coffee table and darting away. Roger was faster though, and he caught up with me, gently tackling me to the floor, making sure I didn't fall too hard. He straddled my waist, still tickling me. I tried to push him off, bucking my hips and doing everything I could to dislodge him. Finally, he fell off, and I rolled on top of him, pinning his wrists down and cheering.

"Gotcha," I said cheekily.

Roger looked up at me, breathing heavily, lips slightly parted, and looking absolutely lovable and kissable and huggable. He glanced over to the others, reminding me that we weren't alone. I blushed deeply, and nervously smiled.

"Marco, tu es muy comico," Angel giggled. Collins' eyebrows rose hilariously, and he smirked.

Roger pouted at me. "Why won't you tell me what you said?"

"Aww…baby don't pout…I um, said 'Roger is my boyfriend, he is very delicious'," Saying this made me a bit embarrassed, but hey, it was true.

"Mark honey, be careful…the doctor said not to do anything strenuous," Carrie warned me, and I heeded to her word.

"Oh yeah…sorry," I looked down.

"It's okay, I just don't want the pain to get worse," she said worriedly.

I nodded; I knew she was right, no matter how much I wanted to roll around on the floor with Roger. Wow…that sounds dirty. But…well, romping around with him made me giddy. I loved it…it made my belly tingle, and made me feel longing, yearning like no one else had ever invoked in me before. It scared me….a lot…but I couldn't get rid of this feeling. I couldn't understand it, couldn't make sense of the thoughts racing through my head.

The doorbell rang once again, interrupting my thoughts.

"Oh!" Carrie exclaimed. "I almost forgot that I ordered Chinese food on the way home." She got up and answered the door, Roger and I going to help carry things in.

Everyone headed into the kitchen, and we got plates and silverware and drinks handed out. Scooping food onto our plates, the smell making my mouth water, we began to eat. We made small talk, until the phone rang.

Carrie grabbed the phone, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Hello? Oh…um, give me two seconds…." She covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Um…Mark, it's….it's your father. Do you want to talk to him or not?"

I sighed, starting to shake. "I have to…" I wearily said; standing and slowly walking over to take the phone.

"Hi Dad," I said softly, dread filling my stomach.

"Mark Cohen, you imbecile! What the hell did you do?!" His voice was so loud; I had to turn down the volume on the phone so the others wouldn't hear.

"I'm sorry Dad…" I whispered.

"I can't believe this, how could you tell someone? You little…you wait till I get my hands on you!"

"I didn't!" I desperately told him. "I denied it. I denied everything. There was…a misunderstanding," as I said this I looked over my shoulder at the others, not wanting to give myself away. "Someone thought…thought I was doing something that would mean I was being hurt. I denied it. I told them it wasn't true."

A long sigh came from the other end of the phone. "You had better be grateful, boy. What's this about you having to go to the hospital because of a little blood? It wasn't that bad, you know that. You're just weak. It didn't hurt."

I closed my eyes, wrapping an arm around my stomach, getting that sick feeling again. "I'm sorry Sir," I whispered this again, though I knew it wouldn't do much good.

"You'd better be boy. I expect to see you tomorrow night, and don't take forever this time. I'll pick you up at six." With that, he hung up, not even saying 'good bye.'

I hung up the phone, going back to the table and slouching in my seat. I dejectedly picked at my food, and then, suddenly ravenous, finished everything on my plate. Everyone was silent, not knowing whether they should ask about the phone call.

"I'll be right back," I said softly, leaving the room and running upstairs. I made a quick stop in Roger's room, before shutting myself in the bathroom. I couldn't believe I had eaten that much, I'm so fat, I hate this! So I repeated what I did this morning.

I puked my guts out.

After doing this, I brushed my teeth and rinsed with mouthwash thoroughly, and then flipped the toilet seat down, sitting painfully. I pulled out of my pocket what I had gotten from my backpack in Roger's room.

Crying silently, I pulled up my sleeve, and cut into my skin. I was bad…so bad. I needed to be punished so I would know not to do it again. I did it once, twice, a third and fourth time. And then I let go. I slashed at my arm, over and over, not caring where or how deep or how big. I just cut. When the crazed look left my eyes and the fog in my head cleared, I looked down. My entire forearm was bloody and searing. Not an inch was left unmarked, and it still wasn't enough. I wanted…no, I needed more.

Moving my blade to the part of my arm that had a small sliver of skin that wasn't cut, I pressed down…hard. I dug the blade in, whimpering, and yet sighing from relief.

I washed off my arm, and wrapped it in toilet paper, putting pressure on it so it wouldn't bleed through my shirt. When I was satisfied, I checked myself over, deeming myself presentable, and went back downstairs.

At this point Collins and Angel were getting up to leave, with the excuse that Collins had a long day at the school. Angel came over to me, ever so gently hugging me, giving me time to pull back if I needed to. I hugged him back tightly, burying my face in his shirt for a moment.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Don't worry about it _miel, _let me know if you want to talk about anything," He murmured before pulling back from the embrace. He seemed to realize the words meant more than just staying with me today.

I hesitantly smiled, before going over to Collins, and with my head down for a minute, I threw away my precautions and put my arms around him. He bent down a bit to be closer to my level, and gave me a huge and yet gentle bear hug.

"See you in school tomorrow Mark?" He asked, and I nodded. "I want my favorite student back!" He grinned, teeth glowing, and chuckled.

I let a small smile come to my face, hopeful in a way. Collins rubbed my shoulder a moment, and stood.

"Bye everyone!" They called out on their way to the door, and we all bid them good night as the door closed behind them.

I turned to Roger, who had a funny look on his face. Curious, I cocked my head to the side.

He told his mom that we were going to hang out up in his room, and I followed him up. We both sat on the bed facing each other, with our knees touching.

"Baby…I want you to tell me the truth, what were you doing when you went upstairs?" His voice portrayed deep concern.

"I, nothing, I was just going to the bathroom," I stuttered, trying to make myself look innocent.

He reached forward, tugging me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me, and I gasped from a sudden, sharp pain.

"What's wrong?" He asked frantically, pulling away. "Did I hurt you? What hurts baby?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, my breathing slowing back down to normal. "I…I uh, it's nothing…"

Roger firmly and carefully grabbed my arm, which I was holding very carefully away from my body. I shook my head, "No Roger…I, there's nothing wrong…."

He looked to me with a doubting glance. "Then there should be no problem with letting me look, right?" He pulled my sleeve up, trying not to hurt me. Pulling the toilet paper away from my arm, he looked to me with tears in his eyes. "Mark…"

I closed my eyes, ashamed as I looked away. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

Sighing, he furrowed his eyebrows. "This one looks really deep Mark…maybe I should try to help you wash it out or something," he looked at me, trying to judge my reaction.

"I-" I was cut off by a knock on the door, and then the door opening. I tried to put my arm out of sight, but I wasn't quick enough.

"Mark!" Carrie gasped, in shock. She scurried over, carefully grasping my arm. A look of apprehension on her face, she exchanged a glance with Roger. "Come here hon, I'm going to clean that up."

She briskly led me into the bathroom, Roger following closely behind. She sat me down on the toilet seat, face stony. I could see in her eyes though….tears were forming as she ran warm water, getting a clean cloth and a bottle of peroxide. Soaking and squeezing out the cloth in the water, she lightly scrubbed my arm, getting the dried blood off. She followed that up with cotton balls dipped in the peroxide, which she warned me would sting.

"I know," I whispered. I used this stuff when I got cuts from dealing with Dad…I hated it, but it was better than getting infections. She dabbed it on, while I bit my lip against the pain, holding my breath.

Getting out gauze and medical tape, she wrapped up my arm.

"Boys we need to have a talk," she said, her voice wavering.

I bit my nail nervously, jiggling my leg on hyper drive as we went into Roger's bedroom again. She closed the door, sitting on the bed and facing the both of us, who sat side by side near the top of the bed.

"Mark love, you know how much Roger and I both care about you. We love and adore you so much. That's why we need to talk about this, although it may be hard for you, I need you to talk to me."

I nodded slowly, unable to look her in the eyes.

"How long have you been doing this Mark?" She reached a hand out, tilting my chin up.

I mumbled my answer softly, but at their confused looks, I realized they didn't hear me. "Um..it was somewhere around fourth or fifth grade that I started," I muttered this, very ashamed of this fact.

"Has your mom or dad ever found out?" She looked surprised. It was understandable though.

"No…well sort of but um, they didn't really acknowledge it?" I posed it as a question, unsure of how to explain. "My mom has seen them sometimes. But she just said she didn't have time for me to be acting so dramatic. And my dad…I don't know."

Carrie's eyebrows flew up. "She knew?" Carrie sputtered. "She knew and she never even looked for what you used…"

I nodded. "She didn't know the extent of it though; she only saw a couple little ones. It's not always this bad, only sometimes."

Carrie shook her head disbelievingly. "Mark honey, can you show me what you used?"

I hesitated before nodding, and taking the blade out of my pocket. I unwillingly handed it to her, gripping it for a second before letting it go.

"Thank you sweetheart," She murmured, inspecting the piece of metal. "Was this clean when you started using it?"

I shyly nodded. "It was brand new, I got it from the package," I said.

"Alright…and you have your vaccines, correct?" At my nod she sighed in relief. "Good. That means you don't need a tetanus shot. I'm going to talk to your mom tomorrow, and I'm not going to through this out yet because I want her to see what you've been using so she can get rid of anymore of them that your stepdad might have, or anything like that."

I tried not to tear up. My one source of relief…gone.

Roger was silent this whole time, and I realized he was crying softly, which was unlike him. I've never seen him cry except for when something was wrong with me…I couldn't believe he cared about me that much.

I wrapped my arms around him, kissing away his tears. "It's okay Roger," I whispered to him.

"No it's not!" he cried out. "I knew! I knew since yesterday, I should have watched you more closely, I should have told Mom or thought to take away your blade or something…"

"Don't…Roger, don't worry about it. I'm okay, really. It was out of stupidity, that was all. I'm sorry," I looked up anxiously.

Carrie reached a hand out to me and Roger, pulling us in close. "It's all going to be okay now," she murmured. "I love you guys."

Roger and I both put our heads on her shoulders, facing each other. "Love you too," we replied, in unison.

"While we're all sitting here talking, what happened with that phone call Mark?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I guess that lady talked to him. He gets mad when there are accusations."

She rubbed my arm gently, and Roger watched me. I felt like we were little again, and she was reading us a story.

"What else did he say?" She spoke softly.

"I have to go with him tomorrow night at six…" I choked up a little bit, but kept my composure.

Roger grabbed me in a hug, putting his face in my hair. Carrie looked down on me, her face full of fear for me.

"Mark honey please…just tell me that he did it and you never ever have to see him again," She said, voice full of desperation.

I shook my head. "He didn't," I clung to my story. I knew he would always find me, no matter what people did to try to stop him.

She tightened her grip on me. "Alright Mark…I almost forgot to tell you, your little sister is home now. I bumped into your mom while she was getting discharged."

"Oh...that's good," I mumbled. Sure I was glad she was home, I didn't want her to be in the hospital. But I did like being at Roger's every day.

I sighed, snuggling into Roger's embrace. Soon I found myself drifting off to sleep, and I barely remembered Carrie tucking us in and kissing us goodnight.

……………………………………………….

Fast forward to the night after this. I was gathering my stuff, and heading out to my Dad's car. I hopped in, averting my gaze.

At his greeting, I mumbled a reply, staring out the window. Then I looked at him. He seemed…not drunk. That was odd.

"So Mark, I thought we'd go out tonight, just you and me. We'll go to dinner and then we can go to the store, you can pick out anything you want, no matter what the price, okay?" He seemed almost…cheerful.

I was in shock. "I…really?" I asked hopefully, maybe he had decided that he should change his ways.

"Yeah. Anything you want. You have any ideas?"

A ton of things flew through my mind. But one stuck out. "Um…could I get a camera?"

"If that's what you want, then that's what you're going to get," my abnormally nice father drove us over to one of my favorite restaurants that I hadn't been to in years.

"Get anything on the menu Mark, tonight money is no obstacle." He had the waiter bring us to the nicest table in the place, ordering himself a (surprise!) iced tea. I got the same, with a wedge of lime.

"T-Thank you," I stuttered.

"You are welcome Mark," He replied, looking over the menu. "I think I'm going to get…filet mignon. What about you?"

I thought for a moment. "I'm not sure…um, I think I'll get…salad with charred salmon," I decided on this, hoping my stomach could handle it.

"Good choice," He nodded his approval, and the waiter came, and took our orders and menus.

"So Mark, how has school been? What's your favorite class this year?"

"Um…probably philosophy. It's really interesting, and the teacher is nice," I was startled that he was acting like this. The only time we talked about school was when he was beating me for getting less than an A.

"That's good, who are you learning about?" he actually seemed genuinely interested.

"Heidegger, Aristotle, Kierkegaard. Aristotle is probably my favorite right now. He has a philosophy that's actually based on a story that was passed down…it's about this culture, where every person was taken hostage at birth and tied to the wall of the cave. Their whole lives, all they saw was the cave walls and the shadows cast against it…that was what they were used to. One day, a man broke free. He escaped, learning and discovering all the amazing things that the real world had to offer…but he couldn't handle it. So he actually went back, begged for forgiveness, and was willingly chained to the wall for the rest of his life. It's basically saying that no matter how bad it is, you always go back to what you are used to," I rattled all this off easily. It was interesting to me…and I could prove it true, using myself as an example.

"That sounds interesting," my Dad nodded, looking around. His hands were a little shaky; I could tell he needed alcohol. At that moment though, our food came, distracting us both.

I looked at my plate, my eyes widening as I saw the sheer amount of food on it. I glanced up at my dad, wondering if he was really going to let me eat it. Normally he didn't let me eat anything.

He looked up from cutting into his steak. "Go ahead, what are you waiting for? It looks delicious."

I was amazed, and began to eat. We continued to do this in silence…until I had eaten the whole thing.

"I'll be right back Dad, I'm just going to use the bathroom," I slid out of the booth, going to the back of the restaurant, and into the men's room. Checking to make sure there was no one in there, I quickly washed my hands before locking myself in a stall. On the count of three, I emptied my stomach.

I strode quickly out of the restroom after washing my hands and rinsing my mouth.

As I came up the aisle, my dad was paying the bill. "You ready?" he asked, and not waiting for an answer, started to leave, with me following.

…………………………………….

The next morning, I arrived in school with a smile on my face. I met up with an anxious Roger, who threw his arms around me.

"I'm alright Roger, I'm great actually," I beamed up at him, pulling my new camera out of my bag. "Look! He got me a new camera, and he took me out to dinner. Then we sat and watched TV the rest of the night. Nothing happened!"

Roger raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Mark you know this might not last long," he hesitated in telling me this, not wanting to crush my hopes.

"No, it's okay now. He loves me, he said so," I was utterly convinced by this.

Roger kissed my head. "Let's talk later, okay?"

I nodded, and we walked into the school, going to our first class…health.

Sliding into seats directly next to each other, I realized we had Maureen in our class. For a moment I glared, but then it lessened. Nothing could ruin this day.

"Hey," I said, and gestured her over to sit next to me on my other side.

She did so. "You're not mad?"

I shrugged. "I was…still am kind of. But everything's okay now."

She brightened visibly. "Really? You told?"

"Nope, but things with my dad are better."

"Everyone take your seats and stop talking!" A strict, older female teacher barked at us. "I am Ms. Gadion, and I will be your health teacher. Today we are talking about violence and different types of abuse. Now who can tell me the three major points of the abuse cycle?"

I sighed. Everyone stayed quiet, until she finally made a cycle chart on the board. "First is the tension. The snapping, put downs, and verbal/emotional abuse are in this part of the cycle. Second is the storm. The physical and sexual abuse is included in here. Third, and certainly not the least, is the 'honeymoon' phase. The abuser will pretend everything is okay, will buy presents and be nice after the 'storm'."

Roger and Maureen both looked at me. I blushed and looked at my desk, refusing to believe it.

"There are quite a few types of abuse. Physical, sexual, and verbal are three of the main ones, but there is also financial and a few other types. Abuse can happen in any relationship, whether it be family, romantic, or friendship."

I drowned out the rest of her words, absentmindedly doodling on my hand. RD+MC, with a heart around it. Roger glanced down, and giggled silently at me. I sent him a little grin, signing 'I love you' to him. He mouthed it back to me.

So happy that I didn't care who saw, I took his hand. We interlocked fingers, and I squeezed it tightly.

The rest of the day went just the same way. I hardly paid attention in class, and by the end of the day, sprinted out to the front lawn to meet Roger at Carrie's car. "Hey Carrie!" I called to the front as I slid in beside Roger.

"Hey Mark, how's everything going?" she seemed astonished to see me in such a good mood.

"It's going great," I grinned, and scooted over, closer to Roger. He kissed me gently.

"Love you," he murmured.

"I love you too Roger," I leaned against his shoulder as Carrie drove me to my mom's house.

When we got there, I hugged and kissed Roger goodbye, and leaned forward to kiss Carrie's cheek. "Thanks for the ride!" I told her as I left the car, and went inside, where my mom and little sister were waiting for me.

"Marky!" a little voice squealed, and she jumped into my arms.

"Oof," I said, stumbling a bit. "You're getting big you little peanut."

She giggled, hugging my neck and giving me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Hey mom," I cheerfully greeted her, hugging her and giving her a kiss. "I'm gonna go to Dad's tonight, I'll call him to see what time, okay?"

She looked over at me. "I'm shocked; usually you're trying to get out of going there."

"Yeah well…" I skirted around the question, picking up the phone.

"Hey dad," I said into the phone as he answered. "Can I come over tonight?"

"Of course. I can't talk though, work is horrendous, but I'll pick you up at about eight, okay?"

As I agreed, we said goodbye and hung up.

For the rest of the time until he was going to pick me up, I cleaned my room. I found some interesting things, too. Some of this stuff I had written years ago, it was interesting to read them again.

Once I finished that, I sighed impatiently. There was still a while left. So, I decided to call Roger. I took the phone into my room, closing the door and flopping on the bed. I giggled happily when he answered.

"Hey baby," I cooed, rolling onto my back with my legs crossed and one foot in the air.

"Hey lovey, what are you up to?"

"Not much, just waiting for my dad to pick me up. I was bored so I decided to call."

His tone changed noticeably. "You're going there again tonight?"

"Yeah, I can't wait," I said excitedly. I think that's the first time I've said that about going to Dad's without sarcasm. "Oh! I just heard his car horn! I have to go baby, I love you!"

"Love you too…be careful tonight…"

"Okay Roger, see you tomorrow," I blew a kiss into the phone as I hung up. Tacky, I know, but….

I ran down the stairs, calling out my goodbyes to my mom and sister.

I beamed at my Dad as I got into the car, but it slid right off my face as I saw his expression and smelled the alcohol on his breath.

"I just had about the shittiest day of work ever boy," The large man growled. I cowered back. I thought this was over!

When we arrived at his house I slunk inside, waiting for instructions on what to do next. I didn't get them.

He threw his bag down on the couch and turned, so quickly that I didn't know what was coming when he smacked me. I lurched backwards, falling into the ledge above the fireplace. A glass frame shattered against my weight, and I cried out as glass rained down upon my back and sides.

I fell backwards onto the cold stone of the fireplace, my breath taken away both by the glass digging into my torso and the booted foot raining pain down on me.

"You stupid, insolent child! Ugly, good for nothing bastard, you whore! You're nothing but a fat, disgusting whore!" He screamed these things and different versions of these at me. I cried, full out sobbed. I had gotten worse than this before, but getting my hopes up and then having them all come crashing down….that made it even worse.

He shoved me into my bedroom, and I cried, begging him, literally begging him for mercy. "No daddy! No, please Daddy, please don't!" I pleaded with him, though knowing it would do no good.

He threw me onto the bed, pinning my arms down as I struggled. I did everything I could to get away, but my efforts were worthless. I was weak from not eating and throwing up. I was so much smaller than him; it just didn't have a point to try to get away. Eventually I gave up, which scared me even more. I just laid there, laid there and just breathe…just breathe…don't think just breathe, don't feel just breathe…don't speak don't hear don't smell don't see just breathe…I was hoping it would be over more quickly that way. But no.

He just kept going…and going…and going….he ripped and tore me open, leaving me naked and vulnerable, open to the world for humiliation and pain. And then he left.

And I cried, and cried, and cried. Eventually I went out to the living room to stealthily get the cordless phone, bringing it back to my room. I still couldn't stop crying, and I didn't even realize how late it was when I dialed Roger's number.

Carrie sleepily answered. "Hello?" She yawned as she spoke.

"C-Carrie?" my tears choked up my voice. "I-Is R-Roger there?"

She seemed instantly alert. "Yes Mark, hold on one second."

I rocked back and forth on my bed, why couldn't I stop crying?

"Mark?!" a frantic voice asked. "Mark baby, I'm here, what's wrong baby?"

"H-He…" I whimpered, terrified. "It…It hurts Roger…."

"I know sweetie…I know love…what can I do? Do you want me to come get you?"

"N-No," I said, sniffling. "I'm just scared…can you just talk to me? I just need…just need you."

"Of course, whatever you want baby. How about I sing to you till you fall asleep?" his voice was so gentle and kind.

"M…M'kay," I murmured.

"Fly, fly little wing  
Fly beyond imagining  
The softest cloud, the whitest dove  
Upon the wind of heaven's love  
Past the planets and the stars  
Leave this lonely world of ours  
Escape the sorrow and the pain  
And fly again

Fly, fly precious one  
Your endless journey has begun  
Take your gentle happiness  
Far too beautiful for this  
Cross over to the other shore  
There is peace forevermore  
But hold this mem'ry bittersweet  
Until we meet" He kept singing, until finally, at last, I drifted off to sleep, the phone still held between my ear and shoulder.


	9. Chapter 9

soChapter 9 of Will I Wake

A/N:Wow I'm updating a lot lately =] dedicating this chapter to my best friend, whose name is ironically Mark. I know you're probably not reading this hon but hold on…just keep holding on. Fly little wing, fly beyond imagining, past the planets and the stars, leave this lonely world of ours…don't let him get to you.

PS: bold is what mark is writing

In the morning I awoke, shivering, lying naked and torn, broken. I went through my routine on autopilot, washing up and bandaging myself as best as possible. There were a couple shards of glass that I pulled out…it really hurts. I'm bleeding worse than when I went to the hospital.

I was broken, in more ways than one. My ribs hurt so badly, I think they might be fractured or something…it hurts to breathe. I could feel my hope…fading. Gone. Why bother anymore? What is the point of doing this, of living? There really was none. I walked silently, almost ghostlike, to school.

I skirted around where I knew Roger would be waiting for me. I didn't speak all the way through English, and math. Then it was time for philosophy.

I walked into the classroom earlier than everyone else, because I didn't want to talk to Roger or Maureen. I couldn't.

"Hi Mark," Collins said softly.

"Hey," I said, my voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. I went over to the windowsill, realizing that there was another 10 minutes until class started. I forgot this was supposed to be locker switch.

Collins startled me when he came over, setting himself opposite me on the sill. He stayed silent, looking out the window with me.

Eventually I looked over at him, and saw that he was watching me. Without uttering a word, he graciously opened his arms, and realizing I couldn't deal with this by myself right now, I accepted his offer and leaned against his chest. He rubbed my back softly, and I winced, giving a small cry.

Immediately, he pulled away. "What's wrong Mark?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing…fell down the stairs last night," I quickly lied, looking away.

He sighed. "Alright…class is about to start, let me know if you need to go to the nurse or anything."

"Actually…can I go now and get some ice really quick?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah, let me write you a pass," Collins said absentmindedly, looking for a hall pass. He found one, signed it, and gave it to me.

I thanked him, and power walked to the nurse's office. I signed in with the nurse's secretary, and took a seat, shaking my leg nervously.

"Mark Cohen?" The nurse came out, ushering me into her office. "What can I do for you?"

"Um, I um, fell down the stairs at home yesterday, and I got a bad bruise. Could I maybe have some ice?" I asked cautiously, shyly fiddling with my fingers.

"Yes, yes of course. What hurts dear?"

"Oh, just my ribs…I'm kind of clumsy," I fake chuckled, hoping it sounded real.

"Alrighty then dear, here you go," she handed me some ice in a plastic baggy, and sent me back to class.

As I was walking back to class, Roger was walking towards the bathrooms. "Mark!" He called out in relief.

I looked up quickly, then back down. Not fast enough for him to miss the dull look in my eyes however.

"Oh Mark," he came over, and went to hug me, but I pulled away.

"I have to go to class, I was just going to the nurse to get ice," I explained, backing away.

Roger looked hurt, and I felt bad."Oh…okay. I'll um, see you later?"

I nodded, and started walking back to Collins' classroom. I discreetly slid into my seat, listening to Collins as I held ice to my ribs. Ouch…the slight touch hurt, but I was hoping it would numb my pain.

All throughout the school day, I sat silently through classes and didn't speak. During world history with Roger, I looked away the whole time, scared of what Roger would think of me. Mark Cohen, the whore.

At lunch I went to the library, holing up in the back with my notebook and pen. I tried to ignore my stomach rumbling, telling myself that it was just a couple days. Just a couple days and the hunger goes away. It's that first hump that you have to get over and then you don't even feel it.

My pen wrote nonstop, words flying out of my hand, I wasn't even thinking and yet there they were. Pain, fear, disgust, self rage, self hate, self _loathing_ spilled out onto the page.

"Mark?" my head flew up at Collins voice. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I thought I heard someone back here, and usually no one's back here….in fact I've never encountered anyone back here since I've started coming."

"Oh," I said in a small voice. "Sorry about that," I started packing up my things, thinking he wanted his space back.

"Oh, no, don't go. It's okay, I don't mind having you back here, you have just as much of a right as I do," he settled on the floor in front of a bookcase, browsing the lowest shelf.

I cautiously nodded, and went back to my writing, looking up at him every so often.

**Rising sun, break the day**

**Take the dark of night away**

**Rising sun, bright and gleaming**

**Show me the meaning**

**Tell me what's my purpose**

**Cause I'm not what you think**

**That's just the surface**

**Reach inside of me, find out who I really am**

**Find out what it takes to be a man**

**Search my heart, search my soul**

**Fly away from my being, whole**

**Never once was this something found**

**Destined to lie**

**On the floor, broken and bound**

**To a life so pained**

**So tear filled, so tainted**

**So long have I waited**

**For someone to hold me**

**Touch me**

**Love me**

**Just for a bit…**

**And now that I've found you**

**I can't let myself have you**

**Because of everything I've ever known**

**Every soul has always flown**

**And so will you, in due time**

**I have no reason or rhyme**

**I fall apart in your arms**

**Will anyone ever truly see?**

**It's in your arms that I need to be**

**Sun set, bring the fear**

**Bring the pain**

**Bring the tears and the rain**

**Darkness taking over**

**It's never seen, the horror**

**Kept in the dark, behind closed doors**

**No one guesses, no one knows**

**How long it will be, till my heart soars**

Collins noticed as I stopped writing, and got to his feet. "What are you writing?"

I flushed deeply. "Oh it's nothing…just a stupid poem; it's no good anyway…" I made to crumple the paper, but he reached out a hand to stop me.

"Can I read it?" he asked softly.

Biting my lip, I thought it over. "Sure I guess…just don't laugh, it's really bad."

"I won't, I promise," he murmured, and he began reading it when I handed it to him.

I awkwardly looked around, embarrassed. When he was finished he handed it back to me, and sat down beside me.

"Mark," he started quietly. "That was amazing."

"Thanks," I mumbled, blushing. I didn't think so.

"It really is amazing Mark, it's so…deep," he paused, trying to find the words to describe it. "Do you write a lot of poetry?"

I nodded shyly. "Yeah, and screenplays and stuff."

"That's awesome, you should think of entering a contest or something, or trying to get published," he put a hand gently on my shoulder. "You've got talent Mark."

I bit my lip, knowing I should disagree. But I was only able to shake my head before the end of lunch bell rang. "I have to go…see you…Monday? Yeah today is Friday…" I had to think about that for a moment.

"Yup, see you Monday."

I left him in the library, and headed to gym. As I got there I silently swore, we were still just sitting on the bleachers. There was no way I would be able to avoid Roger and Maureen for the entire last period.

"Mark!" Roger and Maureen waved me over, and anxiously, I approached them, biting my nails.

I sat on the bleachers, at the top, and looked down. I could feel their eyes searching me. I leaned my chin on my hand, crossing my legs. "Yeah?" I snapped at them, realizing they were still staring at me.

Maureen recoiled, but Roger wasn't affected. He brought a hand up to me slowly, acting as if I was a wounded animal and would run away. Hell I probably would at this point, he's got a point.

I warily eyed them both, no traces of a smile at seeing my best friends on my face. Roger gently placed his hand on my arm and I jerked away, but then Maureen tried and I glared. I was in too much pain right now, sure I'm irritable but I really didn't care.

"Mark," Roger said quietly and evenly. "We're not going to hurt you. You know that, I would never hurt you.

I didn't take my eyes off of him. I stiffly nodded. Yeah I knew that, usually. But I couldn't help being skittish right now; I know I'm going to my father's again tonight. And last night was just…horrid.

"Can I touch you?" he asked, his tone gentle and yet firm. At my hesitant nod he reached out, fingertips brushing my cheek. I lightly closed my eyes, pushing against his hand, leaning into it.

"There we go," he murmured, stroking my cheek. "I've got you baby, its okay."

Maureen watched us with interest, studying the way I let Roger in.

A group of rowdy boys in the grade above us started whooping and yelling and jumping around. I leapt out of my seat, eyes wild, breathing heavily. I moved closer to Roger, clutching his arm.

"Mark…its okay. No one's going to hurt you here. We can't stay here…Mark, isn't Collins' free period right now?" At my nod he informed me and Maureen of what we were going to do. "We're not doing anything right now anyway. We're going to ask the gym teacher to let us go to Collins for uh…homework help."

We both agreed, and walked down the bleachers. I continued holding onto Roger nervously as we weaved through the crowd.

"Excuse me…excuse me?" Roger said, tapping the gym teacher on the shoulder. He turned, looking at us in confusion. "Seeing that we're not doing anything right now, I was wondering if the three of us could go to a teacher for homework help."

"Um…well I'm not supposed to, but I guess it doesn't matter. Let me write a pass. What teacher?"

"Collins…er, Mr. Collins," Roger said, not used to using that form of his name.

"Here you go," Mr. Talorabo gave us the pass, and we quickly walked out of the gym.

I had to slow down a bit, gasping at the pain. Roger and Maureen held back, and Roger rubbed my shoulder soothingly until I could get my composure again, and we finally made it to Collins' classroom.

"Hey Collins," Roger said casually as we walked into the room. The teacher looked up from grading and smiled at us.

"Hey you three. You skipping out on class?"

"Nope, we have a pass. We were just in gym," Maureen explained, waving the pass at Collins. "It was too crowded in there."

I huddled close to Roger, looking around to make sure we were alone. In just a few hours I would be at my Dad's and it was really affecting me.

Maureen made small talk with Collins, giving me some much needed Roger time. He sat on a desk, pulling me to stand facing away from him, between his knees. He started to massage my shoulders, making my head loll forward exhaustedly.

"Roger," I murmured. "I have to go again tonight."

He stopped his ministrations for a moment, thinking. "I might have an idea. He wouldn't do that stuff while other people are around. So how about I sleep over?"

I widened my eyes, a small smile appearing on my face. "That would be so great…I have to ask him, but maybe he'll say yes." Soon enough though, my smile faded. "Wait…no. You can't. He might hurt you."

Roger shook his head. "I don't care."

"Well, I do. I'm not going to let him hurt you too," I said this adamantly. There was no way.

"But Mark…"

"No buts, even if yours is cute," I said firmly, spinning around to face him. I poked him in the chest. "I can deal with it. It sounds bad, but I'm used to it now."

Roger held my face in his hands, resting his forehead against mine. I felt his breath play lightly across my lips, and I placed my hands on his chest. He pulled me into a hug, just like that, so that my arms were trapped against my body. It felt good, I felt protected.

I relaxed against his touch, tucking my head under his chin.

Collins and Maureen made kissy noises at us, cracking up. I had to grin as well; they seemed to get along well.

Roger and I walked over to them, and I curled into his side. I took his hand from where it was wrapped around my waist and whispered to him. "Put your hand in my pocket baby," I murmured.

He giggled and did as I told him to, sliding his hand into my back pocket. I smiled up at him, happy now. I started laughing with everyone else as I realized how absurd we must look. But the feeling of his hand…well, with anyone else at all, even if they were my boyfriend, I would never be comfortable with this in a million years. But as I've said before…Roger is different.

I looked up at the clock. Whoa, that was a bad move. It only showed me that in two and a half hours, I would be at my father's house. My fingers twitched, itching for my blade. I didn't realize how badly my hands were shaking until Roger steadied them in his. My eyes flit to his, flickering with fear.

"Mark…look at me. Its okay. What's wrong love?" His voice was steady and calm as he searched my face for clues.

"I…I need it," I stressed the word it, and from my desperate gaze, I hoped he would understand. Luckily, he seemed to.

He pulled me over to the back of the room, nodding to Maureen to make small talk with Collins again. "No Mark, you don't need it. I'm here, Maureen is here, Collins is here. Three people that care about you in this room right now. You don't need it, the feeling will pass," he held me tightly,

I shivered, trying to focus on his scent. Breathe in…and out…in, out. Shivers coursed my body again. _Bad...bad boy, need to be punished…bad boy, insolent…whore, fat ass…lying fairy boy…_

His voice played over and over in my head, haunting me. _Bad boy…no one loves you…you don't deserve to be loved. You know Roger's going to hate you eventually; everyone always ends up hating you because you're such a whore…._

A strangled, half muffled sob, half whimper came out of my throat, and I broke away from Roger, running out the door.

"Mark!" Roger called after me, taking off. He ran fast. I soon realized Maureen and Collins were following. Not knowing where else to go, I slid around a corner and ran into the nearest bathroom. I backed up against the wall at the back of the room, cowering in the corner as they ran in after me.

Roger approached first, while the other two stayed a couple feet back. As soon as he brought his hand up, I flinched badly. "No!" I choked out. "Please don't…I'm sorry!"

"I'm not going to hurt you Mark," Roger whispered. "I promise."

"No, no! I didn't mean to, please don't," I begged him. My father had used this tactic. He would promise not to hurt me and then when I unlocked the bathroom door and let him in, he threw me against the counter where I hit my head.

Roger looked scared, but he came closer. He carefully put his arms around me, trying to make sure I didn't do anything stupid.

"NO!" I cried, wrenching away from him and dropping to the floor. I curled up in a ball, waiting for pain. He grabbed me, talking to me in a soothing voice. He knew I was planning something. I ripped away from him, only to be caught again. "Stop it!" I said in a strangled voice, frantically doing anything I could to get away.

"Are you going to do something if I let go?" he grunted with his effort to hold me back and yet not hurt me.

I glared up at him, seething. "Who cares?" I spat out, struggling.

"Maureen, go call my mom, she's probably just about to leave the house to pick us up. Tell her…um tell her there's a problem with what she was going to tell Mark's mom about, ask her to come into the school, and wait for her, okay?" She nodded and ran out, looking terrified. "Collins, make sure he can't get out the door. Mark, I'm going to let you go, but if you try anything I will have to do that again."

I was breathing heavy, but I nodded. He let go, and I sank back down to the floor, grasping my hair in my fists. I sobbed openly, unable to hold it back anymore. My body was shaking horrendously, my breathing shallow. I slammed my head back against the wall, but at Roger's warning look I decided I would have to do something else. ARGH. Pain. I needed pain. I bit my knuckle, so hard. I pressed down with my teeth fiercely, tasting a hint of blood.

Roger came forward and gently pulled my knuckle out of my mouth, wrapping it in wet paper towel. "If you need to hurt something then squeeze my hand as hard as you can," he said firmly, holding my hand.

I shook my head. "It's not you I want to hurt," I seethed. Roger sighed, and leaned back against the wall, keeping an eye on me while Collins watched the door.

Minutes later, a rushed knock and a voice declaring it was Carrie came. Collins let her and Maureen back in, and Carrie ran to us. She turned to Roger first.

"Did he do anything?"

Roger shook his head. "Not besides banging his head against the wall and biting his knuckle till it bled," he explained. "He's been tense all day though."

"Mark, look at me," She commanded in stern mother tone. I shakily did as I was told. "You can't do this. Remember our talk the other day?"

I hesitantly nodded. "And speaking of our talk, were you at your father's house last night when you called?"

Crap. "Yeah," I murmured.

"So why were you so upset at your dad's house?"

"I dunno…" I looked away, pissed.

"Did he do something again last night?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I told you he never did anything!" I growled, glaring at all four of them. I was so sick of this. I jumped when the bell rang. "Whatever. I have to go home and get ready."

"No, it's not whatever Mark. What do you have to get ready for? I'll call your mom and tell her you can't do it." Carrie folded her arms.

"Not like you can cancel this. I have to get ready…to go to my dad's house," I admitted, my voice wavering.

"Mark…no! Why won't you just admit it?" She sounded desperate, her voice almost cracking. I wanted to apologize…I didn't want to make her upset.

"I'm sorry Carrie, but he's my father, it's my life. No one else is getting hurt from it. So if I say he never did anything, then he never did anything," I stated it plainly. I got up. "Now if you will kindly excuse me, I'm going to walk home." I said this pointedly. I needed the fresh air.

As I pushed past them, they gaped at the outburst I just showed. I was never like that. However, before I got out the door, Collins put out an arm to stop me. "Mark…be safe," he said softly. I nodded tersely, before walking out the door.

I grabbed my bag from Collins' room before walking out of the school, and beginning the long walk home. _Whore…weak, pathetic child…liar…so stupid, fat ass…stop looking for attention…._

The words repeated and varied the whole way home. When I arrived, I was surprised to see my mom's car in the driveway. I wanted so badly to tell her about what was going on, with Roger and Maureen, and to ask her advice…but I decided to play it safe and keep it inside.

When I got in the house, I heard her on the phone. "Look, I've got one kid in and out of the hospital, and I'm totally buried in my work….Yes I understand that he is also my child!...I have to go, he just got home…Bye." She hung up the phone, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Mark, Carrie just talked to me," She said wearily. Wow I never would have been able to guess that if she hadn't said that…duh. "Sweetie you know I really don't have time for this foolishness, so just stop, okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, okay Mom," I said, pretending to agree. That was too easy.

"Thank you, Mark. Now, I want you to throw the blade out okay…it'll be some kind of closure or whatever."

I rolled my eyes behind her back but did as she said. Ha, ha, lucky for me she doesn't know I have plenty more where that came from.

"I'm going to get ready for Dad's," I said, though no one cared enough to answer. I went up the stairs, plopping down on my bed.

One hour later, I was in my dad's living room.

In that living room, I ducked out of the way as a glass horse figurine collided against the wall where my head had just been.

In that living room, I was praying for my life, though I wouldn't care so much if it was over.

Ironically, all I had wanted to know was why my sister was never home any more. In response to my question, I heard "Working" and got a punch in the stomach.

I ran back and forth across the living room, playing keep away. Though in this game the loser (me) gets to have his dad shove his…well you get the point.

I panted with my efforts to stay away from him, and eventually squeezed myself in between the wall and the back of the couch.

"Boy get out here!" He screamed, and started to lift the couch up. Oh shit! I ran out of there fast, trying my best to block his blows to my head as I ran past him. He grabbed me though, throwing me into the wall and shoving his thigh between my legs so I couldn't move as he breathed in my ear.

"Gonna show you 'ow Daddies love their little boys," he slurred, the stench of alcohol burning my nostrils. I tried to wriggle away but he wouldn't let me. He ran his hand down my side, grabbing at me, as I started to cry.

"Stop crying Mark," He said. "Stop!" He slapped me this time.

He forced me down on my knees. No…please no…. He pushed at my head, undoing his pants. He gripped my hair, forcing himself into my mouth. Oh god how I wanted to bite down…but I didn't, scared to death of the consequences. I choked, gagging, sobbing. Roger…Roger, come and save me, baby I need you….

But of course no one came. Well, except for my father. But no, it wasn't enough for him. He pushed me into the bathroom, not even able to wait long enough to get to my room. He shoved me face down on the floor, and I felt the cold tile pressing against my cheek as he invaded me again. Only this time, the pain was unbearable. The cold tile and the searing pain was my last memory as I blacked out.

Early the next morning, I groggily awoke, to find myself still lying on the bathroom floor. I was in a pool of my own vomit and my father's semen. Blood covered my lower half, sticky on my legs.

I crawled to the shower, turning the dial, blasting hot water. I wiped up the floor before getting into the shower and coughing up whatever little was left in my stomach. I still felt queasy. Scrubbing all the blood off of me, I leaned against the wall, my head pounding. Oh no…oh god I was so dizzy. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply for a moment before it passed.

As I got out, I quickly dried off and went into my room to find some clean(ish) clothes. I slipped them on, pleased to see that they were getting a bit looser. Not enough though. Yawning, I crawled into bed, and crashed until two in the afternoon.

Stumbling out of my room, I went to the phone, but my dad shook his head. "No, you're coming to practice tennis with me."

Oh hell you've got to be kidding me.

Once we were on the courts, he immediately served, and because he plays professionally, that's pretty damn hard. And like always, he aimed it right at me, and hit me dead on in the shoulder. I winced, but got into stance, getting my racket up. The next one, I swung at, and hit it. Unfortunately, not perfectly.

"What the hell was that?"

I sighed, running back and forth across the court again and again, till eventually I collapsed. I awoke to find myself looking up at my dad.

"You passed out," he remarked blandly.

"I can tell," I sighed, annoyed as I got myself off the ground. As soon as I did, I could tell I wasn't walking straight. Oh wow I was really out of it.

"I can't believe you pansy. Now we can't play." He grumbled, walking to the car. I followed, weaving ever so slightly, and leaned my forehead against the cool window.

"Just drop me off at Roger's house Dad," I muttered, uncaring.

"Okay fine…gonna go 'play' with your little boyfriend?"

I didn't even dignify that question with a response. Once we pulled up at Roger's house, I got out, walking as fast as I could without falling to Roger's doorstep, where I knocked on the door. He answered.

"Hey uh…can I uh, stay here tonight?" I mumbled, words broken up by yawns.

"Yeah of course," He murmured, steadying me. I walked in with him, to find that once again, Collins and Angel were over. "Come sit with us babe, you look like you're going to fall over."

I nodded, and lay down with my head on his lap. Almost immediately, I fell asleep.

Hours later, I awoke, blinking blearily up at Roger.

"Hey sleepyhead," Angel giggled softly. Roger smiled at that, stroking my forehead. I stretched and winced, huddling up to him.

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself. "It's c-cold," I stuttered. Roger wrapped his arms around my entire body.

"You're really hot Mark," He said worriedly.

"Why thank you," I grinned.

"Not like that…well you are, but that's not what I mean right now. I think you have a fever."

Hearing this, Carrie came over, and put a concerned hand on my forehead. "Yeah you do sweetie," she said. I went to get up, but she put out a hand to stop me. "Whoa there. Be careful. Your fever seems kind of high; I don't want you to get dizzy."

"But I have to pee," I giggled. I tried to stand again. "Whoa."

"Told you. Roger, walk your boyfriend to the bathroom," she said, smiling and chuckling. Roger got up, putting an arm around me so I wouldn't fall.

"Well we should go so you can rest up Mark," Angel said, signaling Collins to get up. We all said our goodbyes, and then I quickly crossed my legs and hopped to the bathroom.

"Why are you laughing at me?" I asked Roger, giggling again.

"Because you're just so cute," He stuck his tongue out at me as he shut the door behind me. "Go pee!" He called through the door.

I did as I was told, and when I finished washing my hands I inspected myself in the mirror. Nothing too bad was showing.

I opened the door, and Roger led me back to the couch where Carrie was watching television.

"Can I talk to you both?" I asked shyly.

"Of course," Carrie said, shutting off the TV.

"I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I acted like a real jerk to you guys," I said, looking down.

"It's okay Mark," Roger soothed me. "We understand you're having a hard time, everyone snaps sometimes."

Carrie nodded, agreeing. "Yeah, don't worry about it. You had a hard day. How are you doing today, besides the fever? You feeling okay?"

I half nodded, half shrugged. "Could be worse. I'm just really tired."

"Then go to sleep baby…it's okay, I won't leave," he promised me, kissing me softly. I nodded sleepily.

"M'kay," I murmured as I drifted off again.

I only awakened partially as Roger carried me up to his bed, carefully dressing me in pajamas. He gasped softly at my body, seeing how badly torn up and bruised it was, but shook it off for now, stripping to his boxers and sitting next to where I was lying down. He smoothed my hair back, kissing my forehead before lying down next to me and pulling the covers up. I didn't realize that Carrie was watching him tuck me in from the doorway.

I slept late the next morning. This was weird for me, I never sleep this much. When I got up, Roger was sitting on the floor, tuning his guitar quietly.

"Good morning gorgeous," he murmured, getting up and pulling me into his arms. I pressed my face against his still-bare chest, feeling his silky skin. "Mark…you're shaking," he pulled back, concerned.

I yawned, still tired. "Yeah…I'm okay though."

"What happened at your dad's house?" he curiously inquired.

"Oh…uh, it was nothing," I mumbled, though reminders cropped up throughout my body. My throat and jaw ached, not to mention the other place.

He looked like he was about to respond, but Carrie walked in at that moment. "Hey boys," she said softly, sitting beside us on the bed. She hugged me tightly, and then Roger. "You want to come down for some breakfast?"

My stomach rumbled, but at the mere mention of food, waves of nausea overtook me and I placed a hand on my stomach. I shook my head slowly, afraid to make the feeling worse. "No I uh…I'm not feeling so well."

Roger and Carrie looked at me worriedly. "At least have some juice Mark," Carrie said.

I thought for a moment before nodding. "Okay," I finally decided. Roger threw on some jeans, and we went downstairs.

I was surprised when I looked at the clock; it was already eleven in the morning. We both sat at the table, and Roger ate cereal while I drank half a glass of orange juice. I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling tired and weak. I had no energy at all.

Roger carefully wrapped his arm around me, letting me fully lean against him. I closed my eyes, feeling like they were made of sandpaper. Muscles I didn't even know I had ached, making me want to just go to sleep and not wake up.

My boyfriend finished his cereal, and stood, supporting me. "You think some fresh air might do you good?" he asked in a murmur, to which I nodded.

We went back upstairs, and I put on a pair of jeans, which hung low on my hips, almost falling off. I bundled up in Roger's thickest sweatshirt and the blue and white scarf he gave me for Christmas last year, pulling on a pair of socks and my shoes. Roger wore jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, to which I laughed. "Aren't you going to be cold?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm naturally warm blooded," he grinned.

I giggled and shook my head, and we went outside to Roger's back yard. I plopped into the grass beside Roger, the grass tickling my face as I leaned back. I breathed in the fresh air and sneezed. I hated being allergic to oak trees, because I loved being outside.

"Bless you cutie," Roger smiled charmingly, rolling onto his side, facing me. He put a hand on my chest, lazily drawing patterns over my heart.

"Thank you hottie," I sniffled, smirking.

He raised an eyebrow, crawling on top of me, bracing himself so he wouldn't squish me. I giggled, holding onto his hips as he kissed me. "Mmmm," I murmured against his lips, loving this.

We both looked up as the sliding glass door of Roger's house opened, and Angel came out with a bounce in his step. "Hey lovebirds," he giggled at us. "Rog your mom had to run to the store quickly so she asked me to come over."

At that moment, Carrie stuck her head out the door. "Be right back guys!" she called, and we nodded, shouting 'bye'.

Roger rolled off of me as Angel sat in the grass beside us. We all talked and laughed, eventually (though I have no clue how it started) having a grass fight.

A flush to our cheeks, we broke into random fits of giggles. Roger brushed the grass out of my hair, while I stuffed a handful down his shirt.

"Mark!" Roger exclaimed, shaking his shirt out. "I'm gonna get you for that!" He grabbed me, pretending to throw me to the ground, though he was holding onto me the whole time. I laughed, but Roger stopped, picking me up and hugging me tightly. "You're shaking again baby."

I sighed softly; I had been trying to ignore how cold I was. Angel smiled sympathetically, and stood. "Let's go inside and warm up," he suggested, and we followed him in.

Fifteen minutes later we were wrapped up in blankets on the couch, Roger and I sharing one. At the sound of voices arguing outside though, once I recognized one of the voices I shot to the other side of the couch. Carrie came in, carrying a couple shopping bags and glaring at my father.

"I would appreciate it if you would let us know before randomly showing up at my house, that's all," she said, frustrated.

"Mark is my son, I shouldn't have to call to pick him up," my father growled, looking at me. "Get up boy. I'm taking you home."

Yeah, because his house was really somewhere I considered home. "Do I have to?" I asked, knowing it was a stupid idea, but I really wanted to stay here.

"No Mark, you don't have to go if you don't want to," Carrie told me, standing in between my father and me.

"Excuse me," my father said rudely. "I have custody over him, what I say goes."

He pushed past Carrie, and grabbed my arm, making me wince as he yanked me up and physically dragged me to the door. I looked back, terror clear in my eyes as I fixed my gaze on Roger, my plea for help written all over my face.

Roger had tears on his face, making me start to silently cry as well. I reached out a hand, knowing we couldn't reach, but hopeless making the effort. He reached also, mouthing "I love you."

"Mark!" My father barked at me. "Hurry up; we've got things to do."

I squeezed my eyes shut, full of dread as I followed him, trying not to make any noise as I cried.

In the car, I stayed huddled against the door, staring out at the world rushing by. My father drove wildly, speeding crazily.

When we got to the house, I stepped out, sighing in relief to have gotten here in one piece. Though…it might have been better if we had crashed and died on the way here. I was surprised when he didn't get out of the car, and only rolled the window down.

"I'm going out, go in the house, there's a list of chores on the table. I expect them all to be done when I get back," he didn't wait for an answer as he drove off.

Digging out my spare key, I unlocked the door and entered. It was weird for it to be so quiet in here. I headed over to the table, gaping at the sheer length of the list. Groaning, I got started.

Dread filling the pit of my stomach the whole time, I first cleaned all three bathrooms. Ew, that was completely disgusting. They hadn't been cleaned since like, a year ago when I cleaned them. Then I had to do the dishes…the sink was overflowing, there was nothing clean in the cupboards. Following that I cleaned the kitchen floor, vacuumed the rugs throughout the house, dusted, cleaned my dad's room, got rid of the spider webs all over the house, raked the leaves, cut the grass, washed my dad's motorcycle, did the laundry (6 loads of it) and made dinner for my father for when he came home.

When I finally finished, I went into my room and collapsed on the bed, aching and exhausted. I whimpered in fear when I heard my father coming into the house.

"Mark! Get out here!"

I nervously did as I was told. It was nine at night at this point, my dad was already drunk. I approached the kitchen, where he sat with a plate of food.

"Yes?" I meekly asked.

"Did I not ask you to complete these chores?" he growled.

"You…you did…I did them," I fearfully stated.

"Not well enough!" He threw his plate to the floor, where it shattered. "That crap was disgusting!"

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, backing away.

"You don't back away when I'm talking to you!" He screamed, pushing me backwards, so I fell over the coffee table and onto the floor.

I blinked away the fuzziness taking over the vision from when I hit my head against the coffee table, only to squeeze my eyes closed as he kicked at me, connecting with my ribs, then my back, and my head. The fuzziness returned, and I was frozen, my mind clouded over.

He literally picked me up by my arm, throwing me ahead of him, shoving me towards my room. He kicked the door shut behind us, prowling, watching me. I scooted back on the bed, crawling into the corner against the wall.

"Daddy please," I whimpered. "Please don't."

He gave no sign that he heard me; he pushed me down so I was lying on my back, and kneeled on my flailing arms. That made me cry out in pain, choking as he undid his pants and again, shoved himself into my mouth. I tried to move away, but it was impossible as he pressed into me, forcing himself halfway down my throat. My jaw hurt, and I spluttered, tears streaming down the sides of my face, my heart pounding, throwing my head back and forth to try to free myself.

He moaned, grunting and leaning his head back, all in sick pleasure. When he pulled himself out of my mouth, immediately he flipped me over, and grabbed me tightly when I tried to crawl away. He yanked my pants down, and I shouted in protest, crying out in fear.

"Shut up!" he spat out, slapping the back of my head hard. I gripped the bed sheets, gritting my teeth and biting my lip till it bled as he invaded me once again. The pain, which got worse each time he did this, took my breath away till I was gasping, begging for him to stop.

My face pressed against the rough bed sheets, leaving angry red imprints on my skin. I braced myself as he went harder and harder, ripping me apart, building my shell against him. And when it was over, I laid on the bed even after he left, no tears remaining, my spirit finally broken.

The next morning, I determinedly did not shower. I looked in the mirror, and seeing my bruised face, did not bother to hide it, instead just getting dressed and walking to school.

I spotted Roger over by the stairs, turned away from me and talking to Maureen. I painfully stumbled over to him, and could barely hold myself up.

Though I have no clue how, Roger seemed to sense me approaching, because he turned towards me and enveloped me in his arms. I gratefully accepted the embrace, and buried my face in his chest.

Roger sat back, guiding me down with him. I sat in his lap, twisting my torso to squeeze him tightly.

"Hey baby," he whispered in my ear. "You okay love?"

I shook my head. I really wasn't. Last night was the breaking point, I couldn't take it anymore.

"It hurts…really bad," my eyes watered a bit. "I don't want to do this anymore…."

"Look at me gorgeous," he murmured. I did as he told me, raising my head, giving him the full view of my bruised cheek and cut lip. "You can't keep letting this happen. I love you more than I can say…I want to help you."

"I love you too Rog," I sighed softly, leaning against him. "I…I think I'm gonna tell…will you come with me?"

"Of course I will," he kissed me lovingly, "I'm proud of you."

With perfect timing, Collins walked by at that moment.

"Hey Collins!" Roger called out. The teacher walked over, smiling.

"You two are adorable. What's up boys?"

"Um…are you busy? Mark and I need to talk to you…privately," he glanced to me, seeing the fear in my eyes. "It's all gonna be okay baby," he assured me.

"Nah I'm not busy, I've always got time for you guys. Come on over to my room," he took a sip of his coffee and led us to his classroom.

"What's up?" He sat on his desk, and Roger sat on the one directly in front of him, pulling me up into his lap. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I…uh…you know what, it's not that important, no big deal really…" I stuttered out, eyes shifting nervously.

"Mark," Roger's voice was pleading. "It is important. You can do this, I'm right here. I love you."

"No…no, I can't do it…please, I can't, I'm scared," my voice wavered. There was no way I could do this, he would kill me!

Roger scooted me even closer to him, cuddling me to his body and kissing the top of my head.

Collins' face was very concerned. "Mark, whatever it is, I can help you. It will probably feel better to get it off your chest."

My breath caught in my throat as my heart beat ridiculously fast. I gripped Roger tightly. "I…you know when you asked me about stuff at home? I…I lied to you," I ended in a whispered. Roger held me in a gentle hug.

"How so?" Collins cautiously moved a bit closer, resting a large and yet gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Y-You asked if he had ever…hurt me. O-or…touched me…I lied," I had to close my eyes, I was terrified…oh god…I had just told, I can't believe I just did that….

"Mark…I'm glad you told me. That must have been really hard…I'm very sorry you had to go through that. I'm going to help you, I promise," his face was genuine, and he rubbed me shoulder soothingly.

My chest felt tight, it was difficult to breathe. I leaned into Collins' hand, as well as burrowing closer into Roger's embrace. I was so scared…I could hardly imagine my father's reaction when he found out.

"Look Mark, I want you to know that you will be safe. We won't let him hurt you anymore. It's going to be tough…these next few days. But we will be by your side the whole time. I need to ask you some questions…also; DCYF, the police, and your mother will need to be informed. I'm going to get someone to cover my classes, and then we'll talk, okay?"

I nodded silently, holding back tears.

"Also…well, this is completely up to you, but I was wondering…do you want me to call Angel and have her come in? She…well, you know she's been through some of the same things, she might be able to help you through this part," he explained unsurely.

"Um…okay, I mean, if she's not busy…" I was grateful for his suggestion. Angel certainly represented her name, she was amazing.

"I'm sure she'd be happy to come in and help, she is quite fond of you."

Sometime later, I found myself in a conference lounge in Roger's lap once again, with Angel next to me, holding my hand, and Collins across from us.

Roger nuzzled my neck, kissing my skin softly and whispering reassurances in my ear. A tear slipped out of my clenched eyes, followed by another and another. I shook my head stubbornly, clenching my jaw.

"I wanna take it back…please, it never happened, I lied!" My voice was completely frantic, which Roger reacted to in less than an instant. He gently pulled me back to lie completely against him, and rocked me in a soothing rhythm.

"It's okay sweetheart, calm down. You're doing great, I'm so proud of you, my love," he whispered these loving words to me, which calmed me down a bit though I was still terrified.

Angel squeezed my hand softly, rubbing the top of my hand with her thumb.

"No…no, I can't…he's my father, I can't do this to him," I pleaded, wanting more than anything to cut. It sounded horrible…but I felt I had to punish myself for telling. After all…I did something wrong, I had to learn from my mistake, right?

"Hey hey hey…" Collins reached a hand out. "He shouldn't have done what he did to you. You have a right to your body Mark, no one else has the right to do something to you that you don't want. You need to do this Mark; you can't go on letting him hurt you."

"I…I know," I whispered.

"How long has this been going on honey?" Angel asked me softly, her eyes set on my face.

I gulped. I didn't want to answer that. "I…don't remember when it_ wasn't_ happening…."

I felt Roger's chest shudder a bit, and knew that upset him. I felt bad, I didn't want him to be upset. I turned a bit, laying a small kiss on his lips.

"It's okay...you made it better. I love you," I murmured, pressing my lips to his cheek.

Roger chuckled sadly and shook his head. "After all you've been through…you still manage to be the sweetest person ever. I love you too, my baby," he returned my kiss, wiping away a tear from my cheek.

His words and gentle nature made me blush slightly. I tucked my head under his chin, snuggling into him and soaking up his warmth. His arms tightened protectively around me, and I couldn't believe how much safer that made me feel.

"Mark…these are going to be some pretty tough questions," Collins explained apologetically. "Just let me know if you need a break, okay? We need to get through all of them, but we have all day. Take your time, and just answer them the best you can."

I nodded nervously, waiting with bated breath for the first question.

"Alright…we'll start with the questions for the physical stuff. How often does he hurt you?"

"Um…every time I'm alone with him," I mumbled. "Which is pretty often."

"What does he do to hurt you?"

I lowered my head. "Anything…he…he hits me…shoves me into things, kicks me once I'm on the ground…he um, he's used his belt before…." My voice wavered and faded away, shuddering at the memories.

Collins and Angel both looked horrified. I couldn't see Roger's expression, but by the way he gasped and clutched me tightly I could tell he was close to tears himself. As for me, they were continuously dripping down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Mark…I really am. Did he ever say why he did it?"

"Cause I was bad," I stated listlessly.

"Baby nothing you could ever do would be bad enough to deserve that," Roger told me, kissing my temple.

"But I was. I did stuff wrong, I broke rules. I lied, talked back, didn't clean well enough, ran away, didn't let him…do things…locked the bathroom door while I was in the shower," I muttered ashamedly.

"Honey, that's not breaking a rule, locking the bathroom door is a right. So is what happens to your body," Angel insisted, placing a cool, delicate hand on my cheek. "Mark, none of this is your fault. No one deserves that treatment, especially you. What he did was worse than wrong."

I closed my eyes and had to turn my face away. Somehow, I just couldn't believe that.

"Maybe…maybe we should take a break now," Roger suggested cautiously. "You want anything babe?"

I nodded, biting my lip but not saying anything.

"What do you want gorgeous?" He asked curiously. "A drink? Something to eat?" When I shook my head and bit back a smile, he chuckled softly and gave me a squeeze. "What is it babe?"

"Kiss?" I asked, pouting jokingly.

"Of course!" Roger smiled at me, planting a long, slow kiss on my lips.

I closed my eyes, sighing softly against my love's soft lips.

"Better?" Roger stroked the hair away from my face.

I nodded exhaustedly. "Much," I shifted myself to get more comfortable in Roger's lap, and cried out unexpectedly. Oh hell that hurt!

Roger's face instantly became concerned. "What hurts baby?"

"Everything…it hurts so bad," I said quietly, clenching my jaw against the pain.

Roger's eyebrows furrowed worriedly. "Sweetie…let me see?" he asked me unsurely. Collins and Angel looked on concernedly, but let Roger take control. I bit my lip self consciously, but nonetheless, lifted my shirt up a bit to show them my torso.

I heard similar gasps of astonishment and horror from each of them as they caught sight of my severely bruised torso. Even worse though were the lacerations littering my skin, some pretty deep and hardly clotted. I knew from this morning that it looked pretty bad…I was pretty sure at least one of my ribs was fractured, it hurt so badly.

"Oh god baby…" Roger whispered in a way that told me how badly he wanted to make me feel better.

"Mmmm…" I moaned softly, squeezing my eyes shut and burying my face in the crook of Roger's neck. "I'm scared Rog," I whispered into his neck.

"I know babyboy, I know…I love you beautiful," he rubbed my back gently, making sure not to disturb the cuts. "I've got you sweetheart."

When I looked up, I was surprised to see Collins holding Angel in much the same way as Roger held me. Angel turned around in Collins' arms, folding her arms over his and sadly smiling at me.

"You're a sweet boy Mark; you don't deserve any of that pain. Really…you shouldn't have had to go through that," Angel's voice was so soft that I barely heard it.

I couldn't help but to look down. I knew that no matter who said it, it wouldn't make a difference. I could never believe it, because I knew it wasn't true.

Angel gave a quiet sigh, obviously knowing I couldn't accept that.

"Do you want to try to answer some more questions now Mark?" Collins asked gently, and I meekly nodded.

"Okay…these next questions are going to be hard…just do the best you can. Alright, so, first question. Um…what exactly did he do to you, sexually?" Collins seemed very awkward; I could tell that he didn't want to put me through this.

I opened my mouth, but couldn't speak. My breath caught in my throat, and I shrunk back, cheeks flaming. I looked up at Roger, whose eyes were encouraging, but I still couldn't do it.

"Would it be easier if I asked you 'yes' or 'no' questions?"

I nodded, relieved. Saying it just made it seem so much worse.

"Did he touch you…in areas that made you feel uncomfortable?" Collins asked, rubbing Angel's shoulder. I nodded, eyes trained down on my lap, my hands fiddling anxiously.

"Did he make you um, do things to him? Like…orally?" The teacher winced at how horrible that sounded, and his eyes became even more saddened as once again, I barely nodded. Roger tightened his grip on me, kissing my cheek as he enveloped me in his arms.

"You're doing great baby," he assured me. "I love you."

I turned a bit, returning the kiss. I couldn't speak, but I looked in his eyes, and knew that he could tell I was conveying my love for him as well.

"I'm so sorry Mark…did he r-"

"Please don't say it!" I quickly blurted out, my breathing shallow. "I'm sorry; it just makes it so much worse."

"It's okay Mark, I understand…so, he did…that, then?" Collins voice was soft. By the way I looked away and didn't answer; he realized he didn't even need me to answer.

Yet again, tears slipped like rivers down my face. I twisted around and locked my arms around Roger's torso, leaning my head against his chest and drowning in his familiar scent. He rocked me slowly, crooning in my ear and petting my hair. Reaching up, I placed my hand on his chest, directly over his heart.

None of us spoke for about ten minutes, until I suddenly stood from Roger's lap. "I have to go to the bathroom…I'll be back," I said hastily, grabbing up my backpack from where it laid, deposited on the floor.

"Why are you taking your backpack Mark?" Roger asked suspiciously.

Damn it. I guess he knew that I had lied, that I still had my sharp, silver, shining blade hidden in my backpack.

"Uh…I just…am?" It came out like a question, and I silently cursed myself.

"Mark…" Roger's voice was pleading. "Please…don't."

I shook my head, pretending to be oblivious. "Don't what Roger? I have to use the bathroom, I'll be right back."

I didn't stick around to hear what his response was; I quickly walked out of the room.

Practically running, I entered the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief. Good. It was empty.

I went into the farthest stall from the door, hearing the hollow echo from the tiles as I shut the swinging door and stood against it.

I reached into my backpack, taking my blade from it's newest hiding place-the ripped inner lining. I roughly pushed my sleeve up, and with my heart pounding, I wasted no time in dragging the metal across my skin, pressing hard.

The rewarding release of immense pressure couldn't come fast enough. It made me close my eyes, feeling as if I was floating, looking down on my body and watching the pain instead of feeling it.

Again and again and again I sliced my skin open, watching intently as the dark crimson regret seeped out.

I froze as I heard the door creak open. I held my breath, not daring to take even a single sip of air for fear of being caught…again.

"Mark honey? Are you in here?"

Oh crap it's Angel! I didn't know what to say. "Uh yeah…I…I'll be right out."

I quickly shoved my sleeve back down, throwing my blade back in my bag and flushing the toilet to keep up my alibi.

I cautiously walked out of the stall, and over to the sinks.

Angel came and stood next to me. "You okay sweetie?"

Nodding hastily, I washed my hands and then turned the water off. As I reached up to grab some paper towel, Angel's hand caught mine in midair.

"What is that Mark?" she asked me knowingly, and when I looked at my sleeve I saw a dark stain. Shit I forgot to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding…my eyes widened and I stuttered badly.

"Uh, n-nothing, it's nothing!"

Angel's eyes immediately told me that she didn't believe me. "Come here hun." She led me over to the wall and I followed her lead as she sank down against it to sit on the floor. She pushed her sleeve up, showing me an array of straight edge scars lining her arm.

"You…" I trailed off, surprised.

"Used to cut, yes. Collins helped me stop," she explained quietly. "Can you show my Mark?"

I hesitated, but then pulled back my own blood stained sleeve. There were so many marks now, there wasn't any area of my inner arm left unblemished. The cuts and scars varied in color from white to deep red, some deep, some shallow, but all made with intense self-hate.

Angel slowly put her arm around me, allowing me time to pull away if I needed to, but I didn't. Instead, I returned the embrace, leaning into her. It was nice to know I wasn't the only one to do this.

"You know I'm here for you Mark, always. Don't be afraid to ask me for anything at all, even if it's the middle of the night," Angel's words were so sincere, I could only clutch her tighter. "Come on hon, let's go back to our lovers, hmm? I know for a fact that Roger is very worried about you."

…………………………………………

As we walked back into the room, the first thing I saw was Roger pacing anxiously. I practically ran into his arms, burying my face in his shirt and apologizing over and over again. He gently pushed me back, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eyes. "What are you sorry for Mark baby?"

I looked down, ashamed, and pulled up my sleeve to show him my arm. "I'm sorry Roger…I…I can't stop…" I whispered softly.

"I thought…I thought you stopped," Roger said, almost desperately.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach self consciously. Biting my lip, I hoped to god that he wasn't mad at me. However, I was quite surprised when he engulfed me in a huge hug.

I cried softly, mostly from relief, and fell against him, unable to process the fact of what I was doing. I didn't realize just how much of a toll this was going to take on my life.

"Roger…" My voice shook for a moment, and I had to take a deep breath before restarting my words. "He's…he's going to find out I told, isn't he?"

Roger's face looked slightly pained. "Sit down baby," he sighed and guided me to sit on the couch. He sat sideways, one leg tucked under him so he could face where I sat, feet on the ground and looking down. "Yeah…Mark he's going to find out. But don't worry sweetie, you'll be safe. He can't hurt you anymore, and once everything gets straightened out, hopefully he'll be arrested and put in jail for what he's done."

At the words 'arrested' and 'jail' I stiffened, eyes impossibly wide.

"W-What?" I asked incredulously. "NO! I don't want him to go to jail, he's my dad! He was drunk half the time; he didn't know what he was doing!"

Though I didn't notice it, I guess I had been shrinking back, and my face must have looked absolutely terrified as I was almost hyperventilating. Roger cautiously reached out, caressing my cheek soothingly. After a moment I leaned into it as I had a few days ago.

"And what about the half of the time that he was sober? Either way, even people who are drunk are responsible for their actions. What about someone who is drunk and gets behind the wheel of a car? They still have to take responsibility for the people they kill, right?"

I nodded dejectedly, still not feeling as though he deserved to go to jail. After all, part of what happened was my fault anyway. Every parent has a different way of punishing their kid, my dad's was just a bit extreme, that's all.

I brought my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and hiding my face in my knees. "But he loves me," I cried quietly, voice muffled by my tears.

"Come on…sweetheart…it's going to be okay. I'm here for you. I love you, very much. I'll protect you, I promise," Roger scooted closer to me, wrapping his arms around my curled up body. I didn't unravel myself, I felt frozen in time. After a moment I pushed myself away, not looking at Roger's face, and standing up. I walked to the open window, perching myself on the sill and feeling the breeze float across my face.

I flinched when Roger put a hand on my shoulder. "Please don't touch me…understand I'm scared," I said, barely any fight still left in my voice. In an instant, my will to live was gone. Why bother letting myself be close to Roger? He was just going to realize how horrible I was in the end. My eyes prickled with shame. "I'm sorry Roger…it's not you, it's me…I'm so sorry," I ended in a whisper, disgusted with myself. I loved Roger more than anything…I didn't want to push him away but I knew I had to, to protect him from all my faults.

Roger looked a bit disappointed, as if he realized I was about to break up with him. He seemed scared that he had done something wrong, though it appeared that he accepted it, and nodded his head. This time he was the one shaking. "Okay…whenever you need me, I'm here alright?"

"O-Okay," I felt so tiny, yet so conspicuous. "I…I love you Roger…a lot…but I'm sorry. I can't…I can't be with you," It was so hard for me to say that, because I felt that Roger deserved so much more than this…than me.

"Oh baby…Mark…My Marky," he sounded choked up. "I love you Mark," he stressed this part. "So much more than words can describe. Don't worry about me being mad or anything, I understand it's gotta be really tough for you right now. Just let me know if you need me…maybe…maybe someday we can be together?" he asked hopefully. He said it all with so much passion and truth in his voice…if only the whole world could be like that. He hesitantly reached a hand up, brushing his fingers across my lips so gently it was as if a slight, peaceful breeze had fallen over me. His action caused my eyes to flutter closed softly, and I wanted so badly to stand on my tiptoes and plant a small kiss on his perfect, warm lips at that moment.

He sighed, bringing his hand down when he realized what he was doing. "I'm sorry Mark; I shouldn't have done that…."

I could hear Angel murmuring softly in the background, but all I could focus on in that moment was Roger. I had to look away; the emotions were almost too much. The combination of wanting to jump into his arms; and also not wanting to place all my burdens on him made me want to scream.

Though my eyes had stayed dry all this time, I broke down at this point, folding in upon myself in complete, agonizing sorrow. I had never, ever felt this much pain, not even from what my father did. I was wracked with sobs, my body shaking so badly I had to sink to the floor, for fear I would fall. My body felt like a tangle of too long limbs, I hugged my legs so tightly it hurt my ribs.

I tried to stand up, wanting more than anything to run out of the room to get away from all these eyes on me. I wavered, falling back and clutching the window sill. Oh god why was I so dizzy…I rested my head down a moment, and the others started calling my name, coming closer to me. I couldn't answer though, I sank, crumpled, onto the floor…and everything went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 of Will I Wake

A/N: Another chapter coming at ya pookie =] sorry for it ending abruptly, my microsoft word ran out and i have to change to a different program. new chapter coming hopefully soon. italics are what Mark is sorta kinda hearing while he's half passed out. Oh, and before someone who thinks they're smart reviews and tells me that someone can't have a blood pressure reading of 51 over 37, don't bother. That was my blood pressure when I passed out =] *don't own "I just love you" by five for fighting, even if its only a couple lines*

_"Mark! Can you hear…call 911!" _

_"No! Mark wake up! Please baby!"_

_"Mark Cohen? Come on we need you to wake up…"_

_"Age 14, male, Mark Cohen. Won't wake up…"_

Voices faded…in and out, there was crying…I couldn't move or speak, I felt like I couldn't breathe…everything was a dark, fuzzy gray, I couldn't see, I could only hear. I could feel Roger dropping to his knees to hold me, and then it went black again. I woke up halfway in the ambulance, but still couldn't communicate with them. It was only when I was in the children's hospital emergency room that I groaned, awaking to blearily see Roger, Angel, and Collins standing there, looking frantic.

"He's awake!" An intake nurse called over to the desk. I guess they were still waiting for a room to put me in.

"Wha…wha's going on?" I slurred a bit, my mouth unable to completely form the words. "I'm…I'm tired," my words were broken up by a yawn.

The intake nurse, I didn't catch her name, came over, taking my blood pressure. "74 over 53, not good, but better than the 51 over 37 that it was before."

I wasn't really paying attention, I couldn't focus…I was so tired. I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes.

"No no no, Mark, you can't go to sleep…you have to stay awake, okay?" The nice nurse put a hand on my shoulder, patting it gently.

Tears came to my eyes. Why couldn't I sleep? I wanted to sleep…I wanna be at home, in bed. In Roger's bed, curled up against him. Wait…no…I couldn't, because I broke up with him….

"Put him in Room 6, Sheila," another nurse rushed past, and the nurse, whom I assumed was Sheila, nodded.

"Come on…here we go," she murmured, pushing my stretcher. She gestured Roger, Collins, and Angel to come with us, and they followed silently.

Sheila got me settled in the small room, pulling in extra chairs for everyone. "Your nurse and covering doctor should be in soon," she said with a small smile. Turning to the other three, she addressed them. "Try not to let him sleep…we need to make sure everything is okay first."

Angel, taking charge, nodded. "Of course," she settled on the side of my stretcher, stroking my hair back as Sheila left the room.

We sat there awkwardly, silently waiting. Roger stood back against the wall, watching me with fear in his eyes. Our heads all turned as one when the door slid open, and a gasp of shock when the nurse looked down at the chart and then at us.

"Mark!"

Oh wow, that was ironic that Carrie ended up my nurse. She rushed over, and Angel walked over to Collins to give her room to look me over. "Sweetie, oh god…" She took my hand, leaning down and kissing my forehead.

Looking over my chart to see the intake, she raised her eyebrows. "Wow Mark…I think you gave them quite a scare in the ambulance. Your blood pressure went dangerously low…which is most likely why you couldn't wake up."

I nodded slowly, nervously.

"Alright honey…I'm just going to ask you three to step out for just a minute," she turned to the others, who nodded and stood outside the room. "I need you to put on a gown, okay Mark?"

"O-Okay," I stuttered. I tried to slip my shirt off, but my hands were shaking so much that I couldn't, and I looked helplessly, dejectedly at my hands.

"C'mere, I'll help you," she murmured, gently helping me undress right down to my boxers. Her face held a look of shock at my body. "Mark…"

"I know," I said hurriedly. "I told. It was him, all of it. You were right. I just got through most of the questioning with Collins at school."

"So stuff happened last night?"

I sighed, looking down. "Yeah. All of it."

"Did you shower afterwards?" Her face looked hopeful, and I smiled softly, proud of myself for not showering.

"No I thought…I thought that maybe that way there could be um…evidence."

"Good job Mark…I'm so proud of you," she hugged me gently, helping me put the cloth hospital gown on, and tying it in the back for me. "I'll have the doctor order a rape kit. And we'll clean up all those lacerations for you…the big one might possibly need stitches, I'll have to have the doctor take a look at it."

I nodded, hugging her back. Her embrace reminded me of the fact that I wasn't going to do that with Roger anymore…that made my stomach tie in knots, I wanted him to hold me right now…but I couldn't. I had to stay strong, for Roger.

After having me lie down on my back, she listened to my heart, and then had me roll onto my side so she could listen to my lungs, after that she checked for a fever.

Frowning, she wrote down the number in my chart. "You still have that fever Mark, have you felt sick?"

"Not really…just sick to my stomach, but that's normal for me," I rubbed my arm self-consciously, looking around the room.

"Okay. When was the last time you ate?"

I had to think about that. "Um…Friday maybe?" I blushed.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why haven't you been eating hun?"

I looked down. "Every time I eat I feel really sick, I don't know why," I mumbled. "And sometimes…a lot of times, I'm not allowed to eat at my dad's house."

She rubbed my back carefully. "We're going to help you Mark. We'll find a way to make it easier for you to eat, okay?"

I nodded. She stood, kissing the top of my head. "I'm going to go fill the doctor in; I'm not sure who it's going to be yet. Then we'll come in together, okay?"

"Okay Carrie," I murmured, and she left, sending everyone back in. I curled up on the stretcher, clutching the thin sheet around my trembling body.

Angel held onto my hand, rubbing it soothingly, trying to get me to stop shaking. "Angel?" I asked softly. "What's um, what's a rape kit?"

She sighed, kneeling beside the stretcher so we were eye-to-eye. "They're going to do one?" she asked hesitantly, and at my nod she continued. "Basically they are looking for evidence, and they'll see if they can match that to where it happened, and they'll test it for DNA and all of that. It's going to be scary Mark, but I promise you, it'll be over in no time."

I nervously accepted her answer. When my eyes searched the room, they stopped on Roger's form, in the corner, watching me worriedly. Our eyes locked, and I couldn't look away. Tears leaked out of my eyes, silently sliding down the side of my face and dripping onto the stretcher's white sheets.

Roger turned away, and when he tried to discreetly bring his hand to his face, I realized he was once again crying for me. I started to really cry now, harder than just a couple tears. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to choke back the sobs.

Everything was really hitting me at once. The fact that I told on my dad, broke up with Roger, and ended up in the hospital was too much to deal with. I couldn't take my eyes off of Roger; I just wanted him so bad.

When Carrie re-entered the room, I was surprised to see her with Dr. Cameron. Carrie looked at both me and Roger, confused. Collins and Angel agreed to take Roger out to the waiting room, and they left with Collins' arm around Roger's shoulders.

"I would say it was good to see you again, but it really isn't," Dr Cameron said, trying to lighten the situation. "I've heard that you've had a long day Mark, so we're going to make this as easy as possible for you, okay?"

I nodded, hesitantly reaching for Carrie's hand. She smiled softly, apparently glad that I was making the initiative to ask for comfort, and squeezed my hand reassuringly.

They had me return to the position I had been in the last time I was here, on my side, with Carrie taking up position where Roger had been. She gently stroked my hair back, wiping away my tears and talking soothingly to me. I cried harder at the pain of the examination, shuddering and trembling. My breathing got shallow, and I felt like I could feel my father all over again and I was scared, so scared.

"No…no daddy no please don't…daddy no," I whimpered, it was like I was in the moment again. A shaky sob erupted from my chest, my eyes closed tightly. Carrie spoke louder, but I couldn't keep my focus on her, I swear it was like my father was right there in the room. My cries grew desperate, frantic, and I squirmed, trying to get away, but I couldn't. Some part of me that wasn't being acknowledged by the rest of my mind felt Carrie wrap strong arms around me, and that part of me struggled to break through. I buried my face in her scrub shirt, a muffled scream coming forth that I couldn't bite back.

"All done, all done," Dr Cameron finished as quickly as possible, covering me with a blanket and stepping away.

Carrie leaned over me, rolling me onto my back, and allowing me to clutch her with tight fists. My tearstained face held a look of innumerous pain, fear, and shame, and she held me close to her, rocking me slowly.

I sat up, letting Carrie hold me once she gathered me in her arms. She turned to Dr. Cameron, who was about to leave. "Can you sign me out on lunch break?"

"Of course Carrie. I'm going to talk to Dr. House, and we'll admit him…it'll be easier and less hectic that way," she said as she strode out of the room.

"Mark honey, you've been so brave," she praised me softly. I rested my head against her shoulder, wishing Roger was here. My chest convulsed, a silent, dry sob coming over me.

She rubbed my arm, speaking soothingly. "Do you want me to get Roger?"

I bit my lip, tears invading my eyes. "I...I, uh, I broke up with him earlier," I whispered, hoping she wouldn't be mad at me.

"Oh Mark…why? Did something happen?" She looked so concerned, and it reminded me so much of Roger that it made my belly ache.

"He…he shouldn't have to put up with all my problems, he deserves better," I dejectedly told her.

She turned to face me, making sure I was looking her in the eye. "Mark. Sure, a lot of stuff has been difficult in your life. But if being with Roger helps you, and makes the both of you happy, then don't you think that takes priority? I know for a fact that Roger loves you so much. You are all he talks about Mark," she reinforced this, cupping my cheek. "And you make him happy, he is happier now than I have ever seen him in his life," she ended in a whisper.

A few tears were trailing down my cheeks at this point. I sniffled. "I want him," I said through a muffled sob, hugging my knees to my chest. "I love him."

She nodded. "I know you do sweetie. I'm going to go get him." She ruffled my hair gently before leaving the room, soon returning with Roger in tow.

I was in the same position as when she left, blankets wrapped around me, huddled against the wall. I couldn't speak, I was still crying too much, so instead of offering a verbal explanation, I just reached my arms out to him, knowing how vulnerable it made me look, and feel.

He gathered me up, my lanky body having no trouble fitting in his lap, with my too long arms locked around his neck. I shivered violently, sobbing into the crook of his neck.

When Dr. Cameron came in, she and Carrie spoke quietly, working out some of the minor details of what would ensue. Carrie smiled reassuringly at me when they were done talking.

"I've got some good news Mark, Dr. Cameron and I will be switching up to the inpatient ward upstairs, so I'll still be your nurse and she will still be your doctor. They've got a room ready for you, so I'm going to bring you up there. Collins and Angel said to tell you good luck, and they hope you feel better," she said all this quickly, while the doctor brought in a wheelchair.

As Roger helped me up, I couldn't stop shivering, it was very cold in just the gown. He helped me to fold myself up in it, and when I sat in the wheelchair, I brought my legs up so they would be covered too.

Carrie unlocked the wheels, and started rolling the chair out of the room. I reached my hand up for Roger's, feeling quite awkward. I didn't feel like I needed to be in a wheelchair. Everyone kept looking at me, making me blush badly. I was relieved when we finally made it up to what would be my room. It had two empty beds in it, so I assumed there was a possibility of me getting a roommate.

Roger's mom let me choose which bed I wanted, and I chose the one next to the window. It wasn't a great view, just a view over the city, but it was better than nothing, and the sunlight was nice. I sat on the bed, and Carrie went to take the wheelchair away, giving me and Roger some time to talk.

Knowing I would be more comfortable if he was holding me, he laid on his back in the bed, gently pulling me on top of him. I complied, contentedly resting my cheek over his heart and sighing softly. He hooked his arms around my hips, so that they were interlocked above my butt. I had to blush, but I really didn't care. This was Roger, and as I've said before…if it was anyone else, there was no way I would be able to handle it. But I liked this.

"I'm sorry," I apologized softly. "I didn't…didn't want to break up with you, really, but…I guess I was just scared that I was pulling you down with me. I just want what's best for you…I guess that's not my decision to make though," I thought out loud. "Would you still…um, would you still want to you know, go out?"

He nodded immediately. "Yes, of course I do…I understand what you mean, but the best thing for me will always be anything that involves being with you."

His answer was so sweet, it made me smile, in spite of the fact that I thought I would never smile again. I turned my head a bit so that I could press my lips to his chest. After a moment of lying like that, I rolled off of him regretfully, but I didn't want someone to walk in and have it be awkward. I sat cross-legged with a blanket covering my lap, facing Roger. He took my hands, just holding them, playing with my fingers absentmindedly, and making me giggle very softly.

I winced slightly; my stomach was hurting so much. Roger asked me what was wrong, and when I passed it off as just being a nervous stomach, he pulled me into his lap so that my back was against his chest, and he rubbed my stomach, singing softly to me. "I…I just love you," he sang softly. "I don't know why, I just do," his voice was smooth, like velvet, making me close my eyes, soaking it in.

My eyes flew open when I heard voices entering the room. Carrie, Dr. Cameron, and Dr. House walked quickly in. I regarded them with weary eyes, following their every move, especially Dr. House. I wasn't about to let him humiliate me again.

He stared back at me, narrowing his eyes. "I need everyone but Mark out. Now." He stated this so matter-of-factly that it made me sick. He shouldn't have this supreme power over everyone. Nevertheless, they heeded his instructions, until it was just me and him.

"I want Roger in here," I shyly, yet boldly stated.

"Tough. Life's not fair," he sneered, popping a couple pills as if to prove it.

Oh hell, no he didn't. That was _it_.

"Don't give me any of that 'life's not fair' bullshit!" I blew up, my face incredulous. "Don't you think I fucking know that? Since even before I can remember, I've had to be afraid of my own father. I've had to wonder about the next time that he would rape me or beat me, or even the next time I would be allowed to eat. Obviously I know that life is not fair! How could you even fucking dare to come in here, and not allow me the one person that has kept me sane all these years? It's not fair, you asshole! That's my boyfriend, and if I say I want him in here then he is going to be in here!"

I was crying by this point, heart wrenching sobs racking my chest. I figured that the others must have heard my outburst, because they came in swiftly, Roger going to my side and holding me against him, having to pin my arms between his chest and mine because I was clawing so badly at my arms. I didn't even realize I was doing it, but the need to cut was unbearable. Dr. Cameron forced the crippled doctor out of the room, and Carrie shut the door behind them.

Slowly but surely I started to calm down, only because of Roger's arms holding me so tightly. He wrapped the blankets around me, swaddling me, doing everything he could to keep my focus on him. He laid me down on my back, and he crawled on top of me on all fours, leaning down to peck my lips lovingly again and again. Carefully, he settled some of his weight on me, which helped immensely…it didn't hurt at all, and it was comforting to have his body on mine like this, where I was protected. I was able to stop crying, my breathing becoming less ragged and more even, deeper.

I put my face directly into his neck, resting my lips against his skin. He smelled so good, so warm, so safe. I loved these moments, spent so close with Roger, even if they were only the result of something bad.

"Are you going to be okay baby?" he stroked my hair back, smoothing it away from my face.

I nodded, pulling back so that I could look him in the eyes. I drowned in those emerald green eyes, and managed a small smile. "Now I am," I whispered, aware of nothing but Roger. All I could feel was Roger's weight, his warmth, his love and affection, the way he held me and touched me with kind words and kisses.

The spell was broken when Carrie and Dr. Cameron reentered the room, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Roger moved to roll off of me, but I grabbed onto his hips. Sure it might be a bit awkward with the others in here, but I really didn't want this moment to end. Plus, I was pretty sure that Roger's body against mine was the only thing keeping me from crying again.

"I really am so sorry…I gave him a bit of an earful out there," she said, with a grim smile. "He said he was going to talk to you about stuff, about your, um, self mutilation."

I raised an eyebrow. I had heard the word before, of course, it just…sounded so harsh.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to let him, I'll do it instead. First though, I'm going to get some blood work done and insert an IV, to get some fluids into you," she explained all this while Carrie set up what she would need on the bedside. At this point, Roger had to move, but he was still next to me, an arm slung over my waist and his head on my stomach. I nervously began to pet his hair, nodding to what the doctor was saying.

Carrie smiled apologetically. "Just going to be a little pinch Mark, I'll go as quickly as possible." She felt for a vein in my arm. "I'm going to do the IV and take the blood from there, so it will hopefully be only one stick." She seemed to find one in my inner elbow, wiping the area with an alcohol swab. I shivered slightly, and Roger rubbed my hip gently, murmuring to me. I looked away as she prepared the needle, focusing on Roger's golden brown hair.

"One…two…three," Carrie said softly, and she swiftly entered the vein, making me wince only slightly. She made a noise of triumph after a moment. "Got it," she informed me, sliding the needle part out and leaving just the tube behind. She took a few vials of blood before flushing the port and taping it down to my skin.

I watched as she expertly attached it to a bag of a potassium cocktail of fluids, which was hung on a pole.

I tangled my fingers in Roger's bronze colored mane. He looked up at me with a loving gaze, his eyes closing softly as I dusted my fingers over his face. His skin was so smooth, so soft.

I took in a small breath in when I felt Roger's fingertips on my waist. Of course, it was over the hospital gown, but still…Roger was amazing.

The doctor came to my side, leaning down slightly. "Mark…how are you feeling?" she asked hesitantly.

I looked away, shrugging shyly. Why was everything I was doing shy?

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Turning to Roger, I couldn't help but imagine a thousand things. A blade. A million Rogers. A new life. A way to end my life. "Um, could I maybe have some paper and pens?"

With a thin lipped smile, she nodded. "Of course," she patted my arm softly before leaving the room to get me some paper.

Carrie looked between me and Roger, and with a look from her son, she nodded and went to stand outside. I sat up on the edge of the bed, putting my head in my hands and clenching my hair.

"I can't fucking do this," I ground out, seething. I felt Roger's hand brush over my clearly visible spine, his fingers tracing each rib, each bump.

"Why don't you think you can do this?" his voice isn't analytical like some people's voices when they ask questions like that. He kneeled behind me, pulling off his sweater so that only a muscle shirt covered his torso. He snaked his arms underneath the hospital gown, hugging me around the waist. Oh god, this skin against skin…his hands rubbed my belly, the warmth spreading from his hands to my skin made me want to cry.

"Because I can't," I sniffled softly, trying not to cry. "It's too hard."

"You're right," Roger said, surprising me greatly. His voice was strong; in any other context it would have been fierce, almost scary in a way. "It's going to be hell, from what I can tell. It is going to suck, but you know what? You're wrong about one thing. You can do this. And when it gets too hard, and you're falling, you don't have to worry because I'll be there to catch you before you can hit the ground."

I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, seeing stars and hoping things would be clearer when my vision stopped blurring. I just shook my head slowly, bringing my knees up to my chin. I hugged my legs tightly against my body, and Roger gasped softly.

"What?" I asked irritably.

"God Mark…when did you get so skinny?" his voice was halting, looking between my body and my eyes.

I sneered. "You think _this_ is skinny?"

Roger didn't respond to my comment. "Hold out your arm."

I suspiciously did as I was told, watching his every move as he held my wrist in one hand, holding my arm straight. With the other hand, he linked his thumb and forefinger easily over my wrist. He slid his hand upwards, his fingers never parting each other. He got almost to my elbow, and looked up at me, his eyes scared.

"Mark…" he began cautiously, watching me with caring eyes. I determinedly looked away. "D-Do you…do you have um, an…an eating disorder?" his voice was uncertain what to think.

"No!" I answered almost too quickly. "Of course not."

Roger's face looked pained. "Mark don't lie to me!" he said earnestly, his voice yearning.

When I heard voices about to enter the room, I turned to Roger. "Just drop it for now, okay?"

He reluctantly nodded, returning to our earlier position so that I was in his arms.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the sound coming from outside my room…someone was crying. In less than an instant, my mother flew into the room, Carrie and Dr. Cameron right behind her.

"Corinne, please stay calm, okay?" Carrie grabbed my mother's shoulder, but my mom yanked away, running to me

"Oh Mark, oh my baby," she sobbed, ripping me from Roger's embrace. She grasped me tightly, but I was scared and shrunk away, pressing myself close to Roger.

She looked offended, but seeing her tears made me cry as well. I tucked my heads under Roger's chin, sniffling slightly.

"Mark sweetie, why didn't you tell me?" She grabbed roughly at my hand. I had to look away, I felt bad but she just wouldn't shut up.

I sighed, irritated. Why was she being so nice all of a sudden when she's been all mad at me for the past few weeks? "I don't know," I muttered, "I couldn't."

Roger looked at his mom, who shrugged. She didn't know what to do; obviously my mother had a right to see me.


End file.
